Everything In Between
by Superkoi
Summary: Family isn't easy. Relationships aren't easy. Surviving high school while maintaining your sanity isn't easy. But at least they're giving it a good shot. AU.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Hello, everyone! I'm Superkoi, the author of this fic. It might sound a little familiar to you if you've been around the KH fanfiction scene for a while - and that's because this is a revamp/rewrite of one of my older stories. I published the original fic a few years back and never got around to finishing it. And in that time, I felt like I changed a lot as a person and writer. I wanted to finish the story that I'd been planning out since 2006 (yes, I'm serious), but I felt like I needed a fresh start. So... here we are! I hope you enjoy. :)

* * *

 **EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN**

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Chapter one

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Hayner only gave three warning honks from Roxas' driveway before he leaned out his window and bellowed impatiently, "C'mooooon, slow poke!"

Roxas just finished stuffing a toaster waffle into his mouth before he swung his backpack over one shoulder and headed toward the front door. "See you later, mom."

"Don't wait up, kiddo," Roxas' mother, Holly Eberhardt, chirped happily as she descended the stairs. She seemed to be far too pleased with her appearance, which consisted of a low-cut blouse and a skirt thats length rivaled some of the things that Roxas often saw his female classmates wearing in the halls.

The young boy openly grimaced at the sight. He hated when his mother didn't dress her age because he knew it could only mean one thing: she was seeing someone again.

Roxas stopped short at the front door, but didn't turn around to face her when he muttered, "What's this one's name?"

Holly sighed. She already knew what kind of reaction to expect from her disapproving son. " _This one_ is named Seifer and I really like him. He's an assistant dental hygienist —"

" _Wow_ ," Roxas interjected with a heavy dose of unbridled sarcasm.

"—And he's coming over for dinner this Friday so I expect you to be home," she warned, adjusting one of the large hoop earrings that was dangling from her ear.

"An evening of third-wheeling over poorly cooked food and unstimulating conversation? Wouldn't miss it for the world, mom."

"Hey," his mother snapped. "Fix the attitude, mister."

Roxas was still staring at an arbitrary speck on the doorknob, motionless, when his grip tightened considerably on his backpack strap. "Dad wouldn't make me do this," he mumbled.

Holly inhaled sharply, a reprimand poised on her glossy lips, before Hayner unknowingly interrupted their argument with another prolonged honk from outside.

She swiveled around in her heels and stomped back up the stairs. "Don't keep your little friends waiting."

In lieu of a response, Roxas slammed the front door shut on his way out.

All of the countless psychiatrists and doctors that Roxas was forced to visit back when his parents first got divorced told him that the separation would become easier for him as he got older. But now, Roxas knew for a fact what he had always suspected back then — they were all full of shit. Age had done nothing to help him cope with the realization that his parents were moving on without him. His mother was making quite a reputation for herself in the local dating pool while his father had settled down in Twilight Town with a new woman that Roxas had yet to meet.

Which meant that he was left behind to deal with the ugly repercussions of an estranged father and a mother who tended to bring home more men than money to pay the rent.

"About time!" Pence announced when Roxas unceremoniously plopped down beside him in the back of Hayner's junk pile of a Jeep. "For a second there, I thought Hayner was _actually_ going to have a conniption."

The car took off with a screech as soon as the door was closed. Hayner's eyes — which were shielded behind a pair of dark sunglasses — appeared in the corner of the rearview mirror. "Do you clowns even realize how many times I've been written up late to first period because of your guys' shenanigans in the morning?"

Olette was quick to pipe up from the passenger seat. "I think it has less to do with our _shenanigans_ and more to do with your _dawdling_ in the halls," Pence cackled with laughter until Hayner blindly tossed an empty slurpee cup over his seat to smack his friend in the head. Meanwhile, the brunette girl glanced over her shoulder and offered a sweet smile. "Morning, Roxas."

Roxas couldn't help but smile back, despite his foul mood. Hayner, Pence, and Olette had been his best friends for as long as he could remember and, even at their craziest, they had an uncanny knack for lifting his spirits without even trying.

Hayner swerved into his usual parking space — crookedly, which was also per usual — outside Destiny High. He cut the engine and swung himself out of the car, taking a moment to stretch his well-displayed arms over his head of messy brown hair. One semester on the JV lacrosse team had successfully inflated the boy's ego to the point where he found it necessary to showcase his muscles at any given opportunity.

"So what's got sourpuss in a bad mood today, huh?" Hayner swung an arm over Roxas' shoulders once all his friends got out of the car and started moving across the parking lot toward the front doors of the school.

Roxas shrugged. Although unapologetically intrusive, he knew that Hayner meant well — he usually always did. "It's nothing."

Hayner was just about to pry further when Pence spoke up from the back of the group. "You know, he's probably just freaking out about our pop quiz in Bio today. I spent hours last night going over all the different kinds of —"

" _Christ_ , it's only the first week of school and you're already going full-on brainiac on us?" Hayner jumped away from Roxas and snatched Pence's textbook right out of his unsuspecting hands. The other boy huffed and tried to steal it back, but Hayner darted away toward the parking lot. Pence chased after him, calling out fruitless protests while Hayner hooted and hollered in amusement.

Roxas barely even batted a lash at his friends' antics and neither did Olette. She was too busy studying the blond's crestfallen face like a specimen under a microscope. Carefully, she stepped closer to him, shoulder to shoulder as they continued their slow stroll into the school.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" She tried gently.

Olette's advances were much easier to accept than Hayner's. It probably had something to do with the fact that the girl relied on patience and understanding while Hayner's tactic of choice was annoying persistence. With a sigh, Roxas peeled back a thin layer of his defenses. "Maybe later… I'm still kind of digesting it."

"Well, whenever you're ready, you know who to call," Olette bumped their shoulders together with a grin. Roxas returned the gesture just as Hayner jumped in between them, draping his arms over both of their shoulders. He was only slightly out of breath from the chase, but still managed a devilish smile.

"Who's Roxas calling?" He demanded as he nuzzled his nose against Olette's cheek, causing the girl to giggle and push his face away.

Pence suddenly appeared at Roxas' other side. He was huffing and puffing much more intensely than Hayner, but his textbook was safely tucked under his arm. "Roxas is calling someone?"

Olette shot an apologetic glance in Roxas' direction, but the young blond already had his palm pressed against his face.

The foursome made their way through the front doors when a flurry of sweet-smelling blonde hair whipped past them like a ghost. Roxas immediately perked up, his cerulean eyes following the source down the hall until they settled on a petite girl examining the bulletin board outside the art classroom. Hayner didn't miss a second of the brief interaction — for someone so flighty, he was surprisingly perceptive.

"Well, we can already rule out Namine," he didn't bother lowering his naturally booming voice. "Everyone knows that Roxas can't muster up the courage to talk to her even though he's totally in lo—"

"Hayner!" Roxas whispered venomously, giving the boy a shove. "Knock it off!"

The lanky troublemaker whooped with laughter and shoved his friend in return, but the small scuffle managed to catch the attention of Namine on the other end of the hallway. The two boys froze in place when they noticed her staring curiously in their direction. Roxas was too mortified to move, but Hayner smiled brightly and waved.

Namine awkwardly waved back and then silently disappeared into the classroom.

" _Dammit_ ," Roxas growled. "Now she probably thinks I'm even _more_ of a freak than ever, thanks a lot."

"This is why you should just talk to her, man," Hayner insisted. "For all you know she could have a secret kink for freaks. It's always the pretty blonde ones…"

" _Honestly_ , you two," Olette chided softly, shaking her head.

The bell rang and suddenly the halls were swimming with students, all scattering in various directions to their first period classes. Hayner jumped to attention and gave his friends a wink.

"I gotta book it. Because _apparently_ I've been accused of _dawdling_ ," he tugged on a strand of Olette's hair and the girl swatted him away playfully. "Later!"

Hayner took off down the hall and Roxas didn't fail to notice the way that Pence was glaring after him. Olette took Pence by the wrist and started marching in the opposite direction. They turned back to wave at Roxas. "See you at lunch!"

The blond boy threw them a distracted wave and then looked around at the crowds of students flooding the hall. Without the company of his friends, it was easy to feel lost among the throngs of bustling classmates. It was only their first week of sophomore year and he already felt invisible. With a quiet sigh, Roxas headed toward his classroom, but not before some burly jocks from the football team bumped into his much smaller shoulder, promptly knocking him to the hard floor. His books and papers tumbled out of his bag and fell in disarray around him, quickly getting trampled on by the oblivious students as they passed.

 _Perfect_. It was the cherry on top of what was rapidly turning out to be a _brilliant_ day for Roxas Eberhardt.

* * *

The track field behind the school was rarely occupied before the start of class, making it the ideal spot for three friends to meet up in the morning.

Riku jogged around the track, his shaggy silver hair pushed back by the breeze as he gained some speed. Kairi sat on the first row of bleachers, every now and then lifting her gaze to watch her friend or the red sun rising over the sandy hills in the distance, but was otherwise engrossed in her book. She smiled to herself as she read, a sense of calm washing over her at the peacefulness of their daily morning routine. It was quiet. It was serene. It was —

"Boo!"

The tranquility was suddenly interrupted when Sora snuck up behind Kairi and whispered right into her ear. The girl squealed, nearly leaping to her feet, and flung her book into the air in surprise. From across the field, Riku looked over with concern the moment Kairi's scream reached his ears, but the sound of Sora's boisterous laughter that followed was enough to ease his worries. He grinned, making his way around the track, back to his friends.

"Sora!" Kairi's incredulous screech quickly melted into laughter, intertwining with Sora's as he beamed with cheeky pride. "You almost gave me a heart attack!"

"Consider it payback for all those times I fell asleep on the beach and you drew mustaches on my face," the boy said as he leaned over to pick up Kairi's book that had fallen by his feet. "And dicks."

Kairi nearly fell backwards off the bleacher as she threw her head back in another round of hardy laughter, fondly recalling all the hijinks and summer afternoons spent by the shore. "Hey, you have to admit that it was a _little_ bit funny," she insisted. "And in my defense, the dicks were all Riku's doing."

"Not even surprised," Sora snorted.

As if on cue, Riku jogged over to the pair, remarkably not out of breath even after his impressive display of cardio. He stood before the bleachers with his fists planted on his sides. "What are you two _giggling_ about over here?"

Kairi shook her head of auburn hair and answered with a quick, "Nothing", at the same time Sora casually responded with, "Dicks."

The silver-haired athlete quirked an eyebrow. "Not even surprised," he muttered with a glimmer of a smile.

Sora sat down beside Kairi on the metal bench and stretched his legs out in front of him. "So I've been thinking," he began vaguely, eyes traveling up toward the sky.

"That's never a good sign," Riku chimed in, prompting a swift chortle from Kairi, but the messy haired boy carried on without distraction.

"I know that summer vacation is technically over, but we should sneak in one final beach trip before the weather starts getting colder — just like old times! Maybe, like… this weekend?"

Riku immediately shook his head. "Can't. Track practice all day."

A pout worked its way onto Sora's boyish face, even though it was difficult to blame Riku for his disciplined exercise regime when the results were so undeniable. Not only was he the only sophomore to make the varsity track team, he'd also become something of an athletic prodigy amongst the student body. Sora was happy for his friend, but it certainly made get-togethers much trickier to schedule.

"Kairi?" Sora threw a hopeful look at the redhead.

But she just nibbled on her bottom lip with uncertainty. "I'm sorry, Sora. I'd really love to, but… Mom's making me go to another debutante thing, so I have a few appointments and classes..."

The two boys shared a fleeting yet knowing look. The Bennettson family name was one that was uttered often around Destiny Island. Their ancestors once owned the entire seaside town, leaving the immaculate Bennettson Estate to all the generations to come. And Kairi was no exception. Her parents treated their social obligations with the utmost importance and expected nothing less from their only daughter, which meant that most of Kairi's time outside of school consisted of a barrage of etiquette classes, ballet lessons, and country club luncheons — all of the extracurriculars to be expected of an upstanding Bennettson lady.

And it was precisely the kind of torture that she hated. It came as no surprise that strong and free-thinking Kairi would like nothing more than to be released of her family's constant pressure. But despite how often she vocalizes the fact, every year, without fail, she finds herself faking a smile at another one of her mother's brunch parties with the rest of Destiny Island's high-society teens. Because the only thing worse than making mindless smalltalk over eggs benedict would be disappointing her parents.

"You still go to those things?" Riku scoffed. "Don't you think it's getting a little…"

"Archaic?" Sora suggested.

Riku nodded. "I thought you were going to tell your mom that you want out, once and for all."

"Well, why don't _you_ try telling that to my mother, Riku?" Kairi challenged, stuffing her book back into her bag. The silver-haired boy grumbled something unintelligible and looked away.

"So…" Sora trailed off, sneaking final glances at his friends. "No beach?"

Riku kicked the toe of his sneakers against the pavement and Kairi just tangled her fingers together restlessly.

"Don't sweat it, guys," Sora dismissed the lingering disappointment in the air with a quick shrug. "We'll have more weekends."

The school bell rang in the distance, pulling the trio back to reality. Riku was the first one to get moving. He reached for his bag, swung it over his shoulder, and saluted his friends with two fingers before starting a light jog all the way back to the main building. "Catch you two later."

"You're not gonna try to race him?" Kairi wondered with raised eyebrows.

"Nah," Sora stood, stretching his arms above his head as he watched Riku's retreating figure grow smaller and smaller in the distance. "It's not like I stand a chance, anyway. It's kinda hard to get revenge on the school's fastest runner, y'know?"

Kairi smirked. "I dunno. I mean, so far I'd say that your revenge attempts have been pretty successful."

The pair shared an amused look before making their way across the field to the main building, side by side. Sora's eyes gleamed with playful mischief just like they always were.

"You're right," he agreed. "Maybe Riku will find a dick on _his_ face when he least expects it."

Kairi's grin stretched wider.

"Wait… That came out wrong."

* * *

Roxas considered himself pretty fortunate that his favorite class turned out to be his first period of the day. He figured that it would be a strong incentive to get out of bed, embrace the early morning, before he had to struggle through the less appealing subjects like math and science.

But that was _before_ he found himself enduring such a godawful morning. It seemed like nothing could lift his spirits — not even a hefty dose of creative writing.

The class was small, appearing to hold roughly ten students in total, a majority of whom were unenthusiastic upperclassmen. Roxas might've felt a bit more intimidated had they not all been either blatantly sleeping on their desks or completely entranced by their cell phone screens. The creative writing elective had an unfortunate reputation for attracting the bottom-dwellers of Destiny High's academic standards. Most of the students were probably forced to enroll by their guidance counselor, who assured them that it would be an 'easy A' while simultaneously fulfilling their necessary literature credits before graduation.

And that made Roxas the minority by a long shot. Unlike his lackluster classmates, he had signed up for the course out of genuine interest in the subject. But judging by the way his first week of class had been going, he had pretty much given up all hope that he'd get much writing done.

"Hey, you."

Roxas stopped the journey to his desk. He hadn't expected to be addressed by anyone in the class, least of all by a fellow student. The blond boy perked up and turned around to face the speaker in question, stunned to realize that it was a senior boy he hadn't even noticed in the classroom before.

Which Roxas found very strange because the boy looked like the kind of person who was unforgettable.

The first thing that caught Roxas' eye was the boy's head of outrageously red hair. He had to wonder if it was natural or not, especially considering the way it spiked out behind him like the mane of an angry lion. His skin was pale and flawless, except for the two small triangular tattoos under his emerald green eyes. He had his combat boot-clad feet propped up on his desk and was leaning back so far in his chair that Roxas expected him to fall flat on his back at any moment.

"You do speak english, don't you? Hello? Hola? Bonjour?" The redheaded boy tried again, quirking an equally as red eyebrow in curiosity.

Roxas suddenly realized that he'd been staring like an idiot for quite some time now. He shook his head and willed himself to socialize. "Yeah. Sorry. I do — speak english, I mean."

The senior's lips seemed to be permanently fixed into a cunning smirk, Roxas noted. He motioned to the empty desk beside him with a flourish of his wiry hand. "Good. So now that we've got that settled, wanna take a seat?"

Roxas blinked, clearly taken aback by the stranger's friendliness. "Um…"

The boy removed his feet from his desk and planted them on the floor with a sigh. "I can tell that these questions are getting a little too complicated for you so I'll make it easy. You sit. We chat. And then we both get through this class in one piece. Got it memorized?"

"Yeah, sure," Roxas slowly sunk into the seat beside the redhead. He busied himself with removing his notebook from his bag and placing it on his desk, continuing to dig around for the pen that he might've forgotten to bring. All the while he could feel the senior boy's astute eyes watching him.

"Sheesh, kid, no need to be so chatty," the redhead removed the pen that was stuck behind his ear — which was covered in more piercings than Roxas could count — and offered it to him. "The name's Axel Thorne. Not to be confused with Guns 'N Roses frontman, Axl _Rose_. Ironic, I know. I get it all the time. Got it memorized?"

Roxas actually found himself cracking somewhat of a smile as he took the pen from Axel's hand. "Axel. Right. I'm Roxas."

" _Roxas_ ," Axel repeated slowly as if he were getting accustomed to the way the unfamiliar name felt as it fell past his lips. "So tell me, Roxas, are you always such a ray of fuckin' sunshine or is that just a today thing?"

The sarcasm in his tone was evident, leading Roxas to believe that he hadn't been as inconspicuous with his sour mood as he had hoped to be. "Oh… It's just been a pretty rough morning."

To his surprise, Axel nodded in understanding. "Tell me 'bout it. Found out I had a flat on my car this morning in the parking lot. Had to spend all my free time changing it before class. Major bummer, right?"

Roxas glanced down at his lap. "My mom's making me sit down to another family dinner this Friday with boyfriend-number-seven, the assistant dental hygienist."

"Huh," Axel offered him a look that was both amused and sympathetic. "You win."

Just then, their uninspired teacher, Mr. Leibowitz, scuttled into the room and placed his things on the front desk. Nobody stirred. The slightly balding man began droning on softly, turning his back to the class to start scrawling on the blackboard. Roxas reached for his notebook, turned to a blank page, and silently began jotting down the notes as Mr. Leibowitz produced them. Again, he could feel Axel staring him down.

"Don't tell me you actually _want_ to pay attention," he berated. Roxas merely shrugged and continued with his note taking. Axel heaved a loud sigh and leaned his elbows on his desktop with exaggerated attentiveness. "Fine. We'll play by your rules today."

The rest of the class period progressed with very little chatter between the two boys. Every now and then Roxas could still feel Axel's gaze lingering on him from the corner of his eye, but he chocked it up to self-consciousness. When the next bell rang, very little had been accomplished, but the students still gathered their belongings and fled the room at top speed. Roxas was still packing up his bag when Axel stood and moved in front of the younger boy's desk.

"You got a phone?" He asked.

Roxas nodded dumbly. "Yeah."

"Number," Axel elaborated with a chuckle. He pulled out a red iPhone from his pocket and looked at Roxas expectantly. The blond raised his eyebrows a little, but still managed to rattle off his phone number while Axel tapped it onto the keypad. "Come sit at my lunch table today."

It sounded more like a command than an invitation. With that, Axel grinned and turned to exit the classroom, leaving Roxas still a bit perplexed. He didn't quite know what to make of it. Either Axel had mysterious ulterior motives or was far too friendly for his own good. Regardless, it seemed that Roxas officially had new plans for lunch time. He idly wondered what his friends would think of him ditching their table to sit with a group of seniors. Hayner would have a few choice words for him, he knew that for certain.

A low grumble from Mr. Leibowitz at the front of the room tore Roxas away from his thoughts. "Get a move on, Mr. Eberhardt. You don't want to be late the first week."

"Yes, sir," Roxas jumped up from his seat, grabbed his backpack, and hurried out the door to get his day over with once and for all.

.

to be continued

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	2. Chapter 2

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Chapter 2

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The walk back from school wasn't a long one, but Sora, Kairi, and Riku had a habit of taking the long way home just to stroll past the beach. Destiny Island had dozens of beautiful beaches open to the public, but that one particular beach — the one near the old fishing dock — was known as _theirs_. During the summer months, it was rare to find one of them off the warm sand or out of the crystal-clear water. They'd wake up with the sun, pack their bags, and meet up at the beach where they'd stay until it was too dark to see anymore. The trio had shared so many special moments on that beach. They played games, they told stories, they shared their fears, they confided in their secrets, they laughed, and they cried.

That beach was magical.

Sometimes they'd take a detour on their walk back home just to enjoy the crisp sea breeze for a few moments, but it didn't feel right without Riku by their side. The older boy was caught up at track practice, which wasn't an uncommon turn of events, and so Sora and Kairi took the trip home by themselves.

"Kairi, truth or dare?" Sora asked as they strolled down the sandy path by the beach, his hands resting behind his head.

The girl side-eyed her friend with playful suspicion. "Truth."

"Who do you wish would be your date to the debutante ball thing?"

She rolled her twinkly eyes good-naturedly. "I have absolutely no idea."

"C'mon!" Sora persisted. "I bet you know tons of guys on the Island who are… y'know, high society or whatever."

Kairi's smile turned a bit more pensive as she looked out over the rolling waves of the ocean coming and going from the shore. "I'd convince my mother that I'm involved in a polygamous relationship and take both you and Riku as my dates."

The boy erupted with laughter. "Yeah, if your parents don't murder me in my sleep first."

Her own bell-like giggle fell past her lips, beaming with mirth. "Now it's your turn — truth or dare?"

"Dare," he declared instantly after hardly any thought.

Kairi hummed in contemplation, her narrowed eyes glancing around for inspiration. After all their years of friendship, she had never witnessed Sora turning down a dare, no matter how impossible the task at hand might've seemed. And so Kairi often took it upon herself to invent the most ridiculous dares she could ever imagine, just to see how far the game could go before her fearless friend started squirming. It wasn't until her gaze traveled upward that she found an appropriate target.

"I dare you to get that paopu fruit down from that tree," she pointed up at the fruit in question.

Sora's eyes followed the direction of her finger and, sure enough, a vibrant paopu fruit hung from the treetop, many feet up into the air. The boy's expression dropped at the sight, but before Kairi could start celebrating her victory, he shook off his nerves and straightened his spine.

"You're on!" He called out, tossing his backpack to the wayside and marching toward the palm tree. Kairi quickly reached out a hand to stop him, but he was already starting his climb up the skinny trunk.

"Sora, I was kidding," she explained desperately. "You're gonna hurt yourself!"

"You shouldn't have dared me, then," said Sora. He clung tightly to the tree trunk, frantically trying to scoot himself closer to the fruit. "Besides, have a little faith, Kairi."

The girl's concerned gaze was still fixed on her friend. " _I_ have plenty of faith, but that palm tree looks like it might have other plans."

Sora's laugh filled the salty sea air. Turning down a challenge, regardless of how dangerous it might be, just wasn't in his nature. Although his tendency to act before thinking made for some fun adventures, it also seemed to get him into trouble more often than not. Riku would often indulge in Sora's antics, turning the scenario into some kind of competition between the two boys, leaving Kairi to carry the burden of common sense — even though she found it rather entertaining to watch as her two friends battled for the upper hand.

"What are you gonna do with the paopu, anyway?" Sora wondered aloud, his voice distant as he shimmied higher up the trunk.

Kairi sighed with mock indecision. "Oh, I don't know… Probably share it with someone."

Sora hesitated before grappling for support with his right foot. "Share it?"

"Yeah, you know, that old legend," she said calmly, not failing to notice how much Sora was beginning to struggle with his climb. "If you share a paopu fruit with someone special, then your destinies become intertwined forever. Pretty romantic, don't you think?"

"Well," Sora huffed. " _Who_ are you gonna share it with?"

Kairi grinned innocently, although the teasing gesture escaped Sora's attention. "My date to the ball, of course."

" _What_? Kairi, you —"

The next thing they both heard was an unsettling creaking noise, followed by a gasp, and concluded with the telltale _snap_ of a palm tree branch. With a cry, Sora dropped from the tree and landed on the sandy walkway in a heap. He carefully lifted himself up to his knees, but the severed tree branch followed suit and plopped down on top of him, effectively knocking him back down.

"Sora!" Kairi hurried toward him, kneeling at his side to get a closer look. "Are you okay? You're such an idiot! You should've picked truth."

The boy looked up at Kairi and, to her utter surprise, was grinning widely despite how disoriented he was from the fall. "Where's the fun in that, huh?"

His consciousness was enough to make Kairi sigh in relief, but she still managed to roll her eyes at his recklessness. "C'mon, you, you're coming with me. I have an ice pack at home. You don't need anymore brain damage than you already had to begin with."

She helped Sora to his feet, gripping both of his hands tightly until he assured her that he was stable enough to stand on his own. It was with riotous laughter that they made their way down the path toward the Bennettson Estate, abandoning the forgotten paopu fruit that was still attached to the fallen tree limb.

Kairi's house was a grand monstrosity that was poised atop a grassy hill on the northern-most point of the Island with a large cast-iron fence gating off the entirety of their property. The long stretch of gravely driveway, which was flanked by a row of stately palm trees, was perhaps the most intimidating sight in the whole town. It led straight to the front courtyard, decorated with gardens and fountains, that mapped out the pathway to the front doors. Upon his arrival to the Island, when Sora was just a child, he would catch sight of the estate in the distance. His young and overactive imagination concocted many a theory about how a princess was locked away in that castle.

It wasn't until he actually met Kairi that he realized his childish follies hadn't been too far from the truth.

"Just make yourself comfortable and I'll be right back with the ice," Kairi discarded her backpack onto the floor beside the fireplace and scurried off into the kitchen.

Sora shuffled awkwardly into the living room. He'd been inside Kairi's house countless times before, but, still, making himself comfortable within the confines of the immaculate estate was no easy feat. In fact, nothing about the room seemed to be particularly comfortable. The sofa was upholstered to perfection without a single decorative pillow out of place. The armchairs were lavish, but appeared to be antiques — most likely remnants of the wealthy Bennettson ancestors. Instead, Sora took a seat at the bench by the large bay windows where he seemed least likely to disrupt the perfection. The view overlooked the calm ocean, traveling so far into the distance that it blended together with the blue of the sky.

He turned his head just in time to catch the ice pack that Kairi tossed to him. She also came bearing two juice pouches, one of which she was already sipping through a small straw. The other one was offered to Sora with a smile as she sat beside him on the bench. The boy couldn't help but think about how amusing it was — as a teenager, his mind was still quite overactive and he imagined that a house like the Bennettson Estate would only supply caviar and fine wine as an after-school snack. But Sora was immensely glad that Kairi was more of a juice pouch kind of girl.

"Thanks," he smiled back and pressed the ice pack to his head. With his free hand, he stabbed the top of the juice pouch with his straw and began drinking.

Kairi's eyes, which were as blue as the distant sea water, gazed whimsically out the window. "It's really beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yeah, it is," Sora agreed as his own blue eyes followed the direction of hers. "You're so lucky you get to see it every day."

"Lucky," she repeated softly, her lips lingering above her straw. "I guess you could call it that."

Sora turned his attention back to the girl and frowned at her sudden solemnness. "C'mon, Kairi, get real. Look at this place — you have everything you could ever want."

"Do you think my parents ever _actually_ sit down on that couch to watch TV? We have a dining room, but never any guests to fill it. We have a kitchen full of food, but maids who cook all our meals for us. Sometimes I just want to — I don't know — do something myself," Kairi's gaze never peeled away from the sight of the sparkling water expanding over the horizon. "Instead of just watching through a window."

Sora's hand was suddenly laying atop Kairi's. It was a simple gesture and certainly nothing out of the ordinary for the two friends, but the close contact still sent a tingle up the boy's spine. _Have Kairi's hands always been that soft?_

"Kairi, honey!"

Their moment was interrupted by the sound of the front doors opening, followed by a commanding yet melodic voice coming from the foyer. Kairi groaned under her breath, a reaction that didn't go unnoticed by Sora, and retracted her hands. The boy had half a mind to reach over and grab them again, but Kairi's mother was suddenly looming in the doorway, holding up a large garment bag like a prize-winning trophy.

"I just picked up your dress from the shop, angel, and it looks even _more_ stunning than it did at the initial fitting! You're going to be the talk of the town after —" Mrs. Bennettson froze when she looked past the garment bag to find her daughter. With company.

"Hey, mom. Sora's here," Kairi announced.

Sora waved awkwardly with the hand that wasn't still pressing an ice pack to his head. "Hi, Mrs. Bennettson."

The woman cleared her throat, clearly perturbed by the boy's presence, and lowered the garment bag with a forced, "I didn't realize you were having friends over."

"It's just Sora, mom," said Kairi after whispering a quick apology to Sora's uncomfortable expression. She got to her feet and approached her mother in calm strides. "So… Are you gonna show us or not?"

"Well…" Mrs. Bennettson flashed a less-than-subtle glance in Sora's direction, but before an excuse could escape her lips, her daughter was already unzipping the garment bag to reveal a pink ball gown, covered in an excessive amount of ruffles and bows.

Kairi held it up to herself, then spun in place to allow the many layers of fabric to swoosh and twirl around her legs. "What do you think?"

Sora was stunned to realize that the question had been directed toward him. His blue eyes doubled their normal size as he took in the sight of the dress, scraping every corner of his brain to find a proper response. It was very difficult to be honest with Mrs. Bennettson staring him down like a bug that needed to be exterminated.

"Uh, it's really… _pink_."

Mrs. Bennettson turned to her daughter. "We shouldn't trouble him with questions he clearly has no interest in, honey."

"But he _should_ be interested, mom," Kairi still clung determinedly to the dress. "Because Sora is going to be my date to the ball."

There was a resounding smack as the melting ice pack slipped from Sora's hand and fell against the wooden bench. He felt the burn of their expectant eyes watching him, but he just couldn't help the way his jaw fell slightly open in shock. After shifting his gaze back and forth between the two ladies for a while, Sora finally found the strength to croak out a response.

"Um… Yeah! I am. Fancy parties are totally my favorite thing," he fumbled with words that he never expected to grace his lips. Kairi masked a giggle behind her hand, but her mother didn't appear to be nearly as amused. She scowled — menacing, but controlled — and whipped around to exit the room swiftly.

Once they were alone again, Kairi erupted in a fit of laughter, falling backwards onto the couch in a ridiculous heap of pink lace and frills. Sora jumped to his feet in an instant.

"You've gotta be kidding me, Kairi!" He panicked. "Me? Your date? Your mom can't even stand being in the same room as me."

"That's exactly the point," she explained through her merriment. "Remember what I just told you? I'm sick of not calling the shots in my own life. So, this is me, calling my own shot."

Sora snorted indelicately, "Well, if you're calling shots now, then maybe you could aim one at my head so I have an excuse not to go —"

"What, are you scared?"

A comically disgruntled frown crept onto his face as he blurted out, "Huh — no, of course not." Their gazes locked together in an unspoken challenge.

"Then come," Kairi pressed, slowly getting to her feet, leaving her dress in a frilly pile on the couch. "I _dare_ you."

Had Sora not been distracted by his unflinching sense of competition, he might've complained about how utterly unfair it was that Kairi knew exactly how to steer the situation in her favor. And judging by the pleased smirk pulling at her lips, it was all intentional. Sora narrowed his gaze and straightened his spine, much like he had done earlier before retrieving the paopu fruit. It was just some silly party — how bad could it be?

"Okay," he agreed firmly. "You're on."

* * *

Roxas dropped his lunch tray onto his usual table to garner the attention of his friends. "Guys."

Olette perked up curiously while Pence reluctantly lifted his head that was buried inside a textbook. Hayner reached over to snatch a french fry off of Roxas' tray. "Gonna eat that?" The boy asked, already dipping the fry in ketchup and stuffing it into his mouth.

" _Guys_ ," he tried again. "Look, I just stopped by to tell you that I can't sit here today."

"What?" The three said in unison.

Hayner nearly leapt to his feet in outrage, the fry hanging halfway out of his mouth. "We've been sitting here since freshman year. This is _our spot_. You can't just bail on _our spot_!"

Pence pushed his textbook away, a definitive sign that he was now fully attentive. "Hayner's right. I mean… where else would you even sit?"

Roxas sighed, feeling foolish for ever thinking that he could get away without an interrogation session. "A friend from my writing class. It's not a big deal."

"You'd rather sit around and talk about feelings and poetry than hang out with _us_?" Hayner demanded, earning him a shove from Olette.

Roxas sighed again, heavier. "He invited me to sit at his table today and I… don't wanna be rude."

"Who's 'he'?" Olette questioned. Roxas opened his mouth to respond when a hand came down on his shoulder from behind.

"Axel," the owner of the hand answered. Four pairs of startled eyes flashed over to that unmistakable mane of red hair that loomed over Roxas' shoulder. Axel was grinning easily at the friends, a clear attempt at being charming.

When nobody dared to speak, Roxas cleared his throat. "Guys, this is Axel. And this is Hayner, Pence, and Olette."

"A pleasure," Axel purred. "Now, you don't mind if I steal Roxas here for a while, do you? I promise to give him back in one piece."

Hayner nodded. "Uh, sure," It was one of the few times Roxas had ever seen his loudmouthed friend so speechless.

Axel winked in gratitude before leading Roxas away from the table. The blond waved to his utterly bemused friends and picked up his lunch tray. "See you later."

"I thought you might be a no-show," Axel explained as they steered through the bustling cafeteria. The redhead's hand was still settled firmly on Roxas' shoulder. "So I took it upon myself to do a little damage control. Wouldn't want your friends thinking I'm some kind of creep, after all."

Roxas shrugged. "Well, I've only known you for a couple of hours. You could still be a creep."

"Says the guy who accepted a creepy stranger's lunch invitation," Axel's smirk was, admittedly, quite contagious and Roxas found himself chuckling down at his tray. The older boy jabbed a finger into the corner of Roxas' upturned lips. "Aha! So it _does_ know how to laugh."

In spite of himself, Roxas' grin grew wider as he swatted Axel's hand away.

Axel's lunch table was located in the back corner of the cafeteria — uncharted territory in Roxas' case. Despite it being tucked away from plain view, he still found it strange that he'd never noticed the odd collection of seniors who gathered there. They all wore black from head to toe and sported some of the most bizarre hairstyles that Roxas had ever seen. Some were scribbling away in notebooks, some were picking idly at their lunches, and others were simply staring off into space. Yet they all sat in silence as if they were strangers rather than a group of friends.

"How cute. Axel found a stray," a boy with blue hair quietly sneered from the far end of the table, though the remark didn't go unheard by the others. The only girl at the table, a snooty-looking blonde with an upturned nose, giggled wildly into her palm.

Roxas carefully sunk into the seat beside Axel, who shot a terrifying glare in the blue-haired boy's direction. "Here we have Xemnas, Xigbar, Xaldin, Vexen, Lexaeus, Zexion, Demyx, Luxord, Marluxia, Larxene, and that charmer down there is Saix," Axel nudged Roxas with his elbow and grinned as if he were sharing a private joke with himself. "Organization, meet Roxas."

Roxas received no greetings, only suspicious glares. But when the group decided to leave them be and carry on with their silent lunch, the young blond turned to Axel and wondered, "Organization?"

"It's just something we like to call ourselves," Axel told him, reaching down the front of his shirt to reveal a dog tag necklace with a strange-looking emblem engraved on it.

As he glanced down the table at the other members, Roxas noticed that they all wore that very same emblem — some on a ring, some on a headband, and some with a necklace like Axel. He lifted an eyebrow at the redhead. "Are you guys some kind of gang?"

Axel smirked. "Why? You a cop or something?"

"No, I just…" Roxas stammered hurriedly. "I just wanna know why you asked me to sit here today."

"'Cause I like making new friends. Is that such a crime?" Axel leaned forward, elbows propped on the tabletop, and scrunched up his pointed nose while his fingers plucked a fry from the other boy's tray. "Jeez, you're paranoid. Anyone ever tell you that?"

"Not to my face," said Roxas, making Axel chuckle.

The redhead chewed on his mouthful of fry thoughtfully, fingertips drumming against the lunch table. Roxas couldn't help but worry about what kind of thoughts were mulling around in the senior's head. "Alright. Now it's my turn to ask some hard-hitting questions," Axel concluded as he made direct eye contact with Roxas' skeptical gaze. "Tell me… your favorite color."

Roxas blinked. "Seriously? _That's_ hard-hitting?"

"You. Favorite color. Go," Axel prompted.

The blond struggled with the unexpected question. "Um, I dunno… Blue, maybe?"

"Favorite ice cream flavor?"

"Sea salt."

"Boxers or briefs?"

"Uh, boxers."

"And what's the deal with your daddy issues?"

Roxas nearly choked on his own spit. "Huh — daddy issues? What do you mean?"

Axel waved a hand in the air nonchalantly. "In class you mentioned something about a dental hygienist…"

"He's _not_ my father."

The redhead's hands went up in defense. "Fine, fine, definitely _no_ relation," he leaned forward again, intrigued. "But what gives?"

Roxas fidgeted uncomfortably in his seat. Family wasn't his ideal topic of discussion, especially with someone he had just met, but Axel seemed like the kind of person who wouldn't drop the subject so easily. Those penetrating emerald eyes were already boring a hole through Roxas' hesitant features and the blond had a feeling that they wouldn't let up until he started talking.

And so Roxas exhaled and mumbled out the abridged version of his familial strife, "My parents got divorced and my mom started dating again. And the guys she brings home are all far from father material."

"Hm," Axel hummed softly. As Roxas glanced upward again, he was surprised to discover that the older boy's gaze had turned solemn — patient and sympathetic — as he listened. Axel's hand absently reached for another fry. "So what happened to the real old man Eberhardt?"

"He moved. To Twilight Town," Roxas sighed. "I've been trying to make plans to go visit him sometime, but… it hasn't worked out. He's really busy."

"Jeez, pass me the tissues while you're at it," Axel pointed the limp fry in his hand at the boy. "Family sucks, my friend."

"You can say that again," agreed Roxas. "What about you?"

Axel's usual smirk returned in an instant. "Well, I like to think that I don't _suck_ …"

"No, I mean," the younger boy cautiously looked up to meet Axel's eyes. "What about _your_ family?"

For a brief flicker of a second, Roxas could've sworn he detected a glimmer of hesitance flash through those confident green orbs. But the moment had passed just as quickly as it had arrived, and Axel was collected once more as he bit off the end of the french fry with a shrug.

"Don't have one," he said simply.

The response was as vague as Axel had intended, leaving Roxas' mind reeling with curiosity. The blond furrowed his brow, studying his new friend's face intently, but Axel's stare was a steely challenge — silently daring him to attempt to break down his defenses. Before Roxas could accept that challenge, the dismissal bell beat him to the punch. The other Organization members stood and dispersed in various directions, still in silence. Roxas looked down at his untouched lunch, save for the fries that had been moderately devoured by Axel, and then stood when he noticed the redhead already slinging his bag over his shoulder.

"'Til tomorrow, Roxas."

Axel joined the throngs of students as everyone piled out of the cafeteria, disappearing around the corner as he headed toward his next destination. Roxas, for what seemed like the millionth time that day, was dumbfounded. Axel had managed to squeeze some information out of him, but the blond still knew very little about his new friend. Why did he seem to care so much about his life? And why did he even bother seeking out his company when he already had an entire lunch table of friends?

Roxas found himself pondering the answers as he hurried off to his next class.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to set by the time track practice ended. Riku, after a few extra laps and a long shower in the locker room, was finally on his way home. A few of his teammates clapped him on the back on his way out, a congratulatory gesture for beating his old record mile time that afternoon. The silver-haired sophomore issued his thanks and let his aching limbs carry him all the way home.

He didn't take the path by the beach. He was alone. It wouldn't be right.

Riku's house was in an old neighborhood of the Island. It was quaint with sand-covered roads and cobblestone sidewalks, but the houses were much too close together and a bit too small. When Riku stepped inside, the first thing he noticed was his father's study to the left of the front door. The desktop was littered with papers, some crumpled into balls of frustration and others just strewn around messily. A few of the books from the shelf had fallen to the floor, as well as a small table lamp, the bulb shattered into tiny pieces on the rug — the scene of another one of his father's episodes.

He didn't want to think about how coming home to such a familiar sight had became part of his daily routine. Instead, Riku put the books back on the shelf, stacked the papers as best he could on the desktop, and swept the glass shards into a dustpan. He followed the soft murmur of the television set into the living room where his father was sprawled haphazardly across the couch, fast asleep as the screen lit up the room in a dim glow. A half-empty beer can was still in the man's clutches so Riku placed it safely on the end table. He found his father's medication bottle sitting amongst the clutter, picked it up and did a quick count to make sure he'd taken the necessary dosage for the day.

"Hey, dad," Riku sighed. He grabbed an afghan blanket from the recliner and gently laid it over his father's sleeping body, then turned the television off before heading upstairs.

It had been barely over a year since Riku's mother met her untimely death in a car accident off the Island. Sometimes the memories felt so vivid that Riku could've sworn it had happened only yesterday. Other times, the memories were distant like some kind of far-off dream that didn't even belong to him. That's when Riku started running. He learned to love the burn of over-exerted muscles — the rush that he got as he ran far, far away from everything else except the wind against his skin and the quickening of his heartbeat.

But Riku's father wasn't as strong as his son. He spiraled downward. He didn't cope. He never recovered from the grief of a broken heart. There were days — the bad days, as Riku called them — when his father would become inexplicably inconsolable, causing him to wreak havoc throughout the house. Other days were even worse and he'd lock himself away in the bedroom, unable to get out of bed and refusing to face the world. The good days — which were few and far between — almost made Riku forget about the pain.

And some days he just needed his mother.

He made his way into his room on the second floor, small and cozy with a slanted attic-style ceiling. Although he was exhausted, Riku knew that he wouldn't be going to sleep any time soon. Part of him wanted to run the block a few times, just for the fresh air, but he knew that he'd crash and burn if he didn't rest. So he paced the floor restlessly, coming to a pause at his window. The sun had completely set, but he could still see, by the glow of the moon, that his window led right out to the rooftop. It suddenly looked rather inviting out there and a far better option than suffocating on the stifling misfortunes of inside his house. And so, without much thought, the boy pushed open his window and climbed outside.

Riku was immediately greeted by a rush of warm, salty air. He inhaled the scent as he sat on the roof, leaning back to stare up at the small specks of starlight in the night sky.

"I guess my hiding place isn't such a secret anymore," an unfamiliar voice spoke up softly.

Riku sat up with a start. He could barely make out the small figure sitting cross-legged on the rooftop of his neighbor's house across the way. She was bent over her lap as she scribbled intently onto her large sketchpad, long tresses of wispy blonde hair falling around her face to shroud her delicate features in mystery. It wasn't until she looked up from her artwork that Riku noticed a pair of bright blue eyes blinking at him through the darkness.

"Oh… Sorry. Didn't see you there," he apologized.

The girl shrugged her tiny shoulders and went back to sketching. "It's okay. You can stay."

They fell into a comfortable silence with their only accompaniment being the distant roll of the waves and the gentle scratching of her pencil against the paper. Still, Riku couldn't stop staring. His mysterious neighbor seemed strangely familiar to him.

"I'm Riku, by the way," he spoke again, breaking the silence.

The scratching noise stopped as she meekly replied, "I know."

The boy was confused. "You know who I am?"

"Riku Gaines, sophomore. Track star of Destiny High."

There was only a small amount of sarcasm hidden in her airy tone, but it was enough to make Riku mumble bashfully, "Yeah… something like that."

"And I'm Namine Lunette, sophomore. Self-proclaimed art geek," she continued.

"Nice to meet you, Namine."

"You, too, Riku."

More silence. Still comfortable. The scratching noise started up again.

"So what are you hiding from?" Riku wondered after a while. Namine's blue eyes peered up in confusion so he added, "You said that this is your secret hiding place. That must mean you're hiding from something."

Namine's reply was a bit too delayed to be entirely convincing. "I just like coming out here to sketch, that's all."

"What're you sketching?" He asked. Even through the darkness, Riku could detect the way that Namine's cheeks reddened beneath her porcelain skin.

"Your house, actually," she pulled her sketchpad to her chest and tilted her head with intrigue as she studied the neighboring house. "I like the way those vines crawl up the side like that. It's gentle, but… complex. And there are flowers about to bloom right there — wisteria, I think — small bursts of color like…"

Namine's voice trailed off into nothing when she noticed Riku staring at her with a furrowed brow. She hugged her sketchpad a little tighter.

"Sounds like you've been spending a lot of time out here," the boy commented.

"I hope you don't mind," said Namine.

Riku shook his head. "Only if I can see the sketch when you're done."

The corners of Namine's lips curled upward, almost imperceptibly. "Okay."

There was a muted thud from within Riku's house, followed by clambering footsteps and a groggy call of, "Riku? You home?", to signify that his father had woken up from his nap.

Riku looked over at Namine. "I have to…"

"I understand," the tiny blonde assured him before returning to her drawing as if she'd never been interrupted.

He watched her for a brief moment — the way she moved her hands with practiced skill, the way her round eyes settled into concentration — and climbed back into his room. It was with a resounding slam that Riku shut the window behind him, sealing him off from the safety of his new hiding place.

.

to be continued

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	3. Chapter 3

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Chapter 3

.

"Oh, my god… They're like a freakin' _cult_!"

Hayner slammed his locker door shut for emphasis and Roxas jumped from the loud noise. Olette and Pence both rolled their eyes in mutual exasperation.

Roxas had been debating whether or not to rehash his unusual experience at Axel's lunch table yesterday, but his friends left him with no choice — they were all beyond curious to hear all about the fiery-haired stranger who swept him away before any of them could get a word in edgewise. So Roxas warily racked his brain to recite as many details as he could recall — including a horrifically failed attempt at remembering all the bizarre names of the other table occupants. Hayner, however, was still fixated on Roxas' vague description of the emblem that they all wore.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure that cults are usually only tied to religious affiliations," Pence supplied helpfully.

"We don't know anything about them, P-Man," Hayner turned around slowly to face his friends, his expression dark and dramatic like it usually was whenever his mind started concocting one of his harebrained theories. "For all we know, that weird emblem could be some kind of ancient tribal symbol used for summoning Hades — no — _Satan_. Right this very second they could be plotting to lure our Roxas into their clutches and drag him down to the demonic underworld with them! Don't drink the Kool-Aid, Roxas, _don't drink it!_ "

Caught up in his bout of passion, Hayner lunged forward and desperately grabbed Roxas by the front of his shirt to plead with him, but the blond pushed his friend away haughtily. "Would you cut it out? They're not a cult."

"Hayner kind of has a point, Roxas," Olette spoke up, causing the other three to stop and stare at her with intrigue. "I mean, we really don't know much about them at all. Axel seems to be nice, but… I've seen some of them walking through the halls before. You just need to be careful."

Roxas shook his head defeatedly. "Look, if you guys are actually _that_ concerned, then I'll just stop hanging around them."

"No!" Hayner exclaimed, startling his friends and a few innocent passersby with his sudden outburst. "Are you kidding me? This is _perfect_. You gotta keep this up, man. Penetrate from the inside —"

"… I think you mean _infiltrate_."

"—And figure out their true motives. It'll be like a real life episode of Criminal Minds!"

Pence nudged Olette. "I thought we weren't supposed to let him watch that show anymore," and the girl shrugged helplessly.

"You want me to spy?" Roxas questioned with a lifted brow.

"Spy? Did I say anything about spying?" Hayner draped an arm over Roxas' shoulder and leaned in close to speak conspiratorially. "How many times in our lives are we gonna get this opportunity? The opportunity to demystify one of Destiny High's biggest secrets? We'll all go down in history. It's not every day that one of us gets adopted by a group of seniors. You gotta find out what they want with you and then report back."

Roxas wore a blank stare. "So… spying."

Hayner retracted his arm with a huff and flung his hand into the air. "Alright, fine. I want you to go all James Bond on their pretentious asses!"

"Don't you think that's a little unethical?" Olette cut in. "These are Roxas' new friends so _he_ should get the final say."

"Ethics, shmethics," Hayner dismissed the logic entirely. "This plan is gonna make this semester _way_ less boring!"

Clapping Roxas on the back in camaraderie, Hayner took off down the hall with newfound pep in his step. The others watched on, bemused, until the boy was lost among the crowd of students.

Pence looked over at Roxas contritely. "Don't worry. He'll forget all about this by next period when he's already planning out our next big scheme."

"You know how Hayner can be," Olette added with a meaningful sigh. Despite the frequent migraines that his friends' antics have been known to cause, Roxas couldn't suppress a chuckle. If nothing else, it provided him with an endless supply of entertainment.

A swarm of darkness caught Roxas' attention out of the corner of his eye. He turned his head just in time to watch the two black-clad seniors glide gracefully down the hallway. The surrounding students seemed to wordlessly part the way for them, as if it were universally understood that direct contact should be kept to a minimum. The two seniors walked shoulder to shoulder in matching strides, and Roxas vaguely remembered them from Axel's lunch table. One wore an eyepatch and the other had vibrantly pink hair.

There was a peculiar urge that bubbled up in Roxas' chest — the urge to follow. Although they were most likely on their way to class like everyone else, he couldn't seem to shake Hayner's words that echoed relentlessly in his head: 'how many times in our lives are we gonna get this opportunity?' Roxas made a mental note to blame his friend later as he began backing away slowly down the hall, earning him suspicious glances from Pence and Olette.

"So I'll… catch you guys later, then?" He dismissed them flightily. After a knowing chuckle from Olette and a wave from Pence, Roxas took off after the Organization members.

It didn't take him long to catch up to them, though he made sure to keep a fair distance just in case. He watched them saunter down the hallway like ominous rain clouds. Every now and then Roxas would see one of them turn his head toward the other, lips moving at such a quickened pace that the blond had to wonder if they were actually producing words. He knew there was only one way to find out. Roxas gained a bit of speed as he navigated the hall, silently creeping forward until he could almost reach out and touch the pink-haired boy's black messenger bag that was hanging off his shoulder.

"… tonight. Axel will be there with Saix," said one of the boys. Roxas could barely make out his low whisper. "Just make sure you're on time…"

"… I'll be sure to bring what I've got…"

In his strained attempt at eavesdropping, Roxas failed to notice the oncoming herd of students who were too busy giggling and chatting to acknowledge his presence. Two shoulders collided roughly and knocked one of the stranger's armful of books to the tiled floor with a loud thunk.

"Hey, watch where you're going, man," the stranger sneered at Roxas, but the blond boy hardly heard. He could already feel the hot whips of panic bubbling within his chest as the Organization members began turning around to investigate the noisy disruption. Roxas immediately retreated into the nearest doorway to avoid being seen.

He promptly shut the door behind him, sealing himself away into safety. Roxas didn't dare to peek out the tiny window on the door to see if his getaway had been successful. Instead, he ducked below it and released a large exhale, suddenly realizing that he'd been holding his breath for a while.

"Hello?"

Roxas jumped — still skittish from his spying debacle — and spun around to face the classroom. It was empty, much to his relief, except for a lone girl sitting in the back. He'd found his way into the art studio judging by the paintings hanging from the walls and the line of pottery assignments drying on a shelf to his left. The girl with sunshine hair and big blue eyes looked entirely too familiar to Roxas, but, even so, it took him an embarrassingly delayed moment for his mind to kick back into gear. It was Namine.

 _Shit_.

Admittedly, all of Roxas' previous encounters with his longtime crush had been brief. And agonizingly awkward. The blond boy had an ungainly tendency to clam up whenever it came to striking up conversation with the most hauntingly angelic creature at Destiny High. Roxas had never been one to consider himself a stellar conversationalist anyway, but there was something about Namine that never failed to render him a foolish, blubbering mess of a human being.

"H-Hi," he stammered.

The pretty blonde offered a small smile as she returned to the project before her. "I didn't know that you take art."

"Oh, uh, yeah — I mean — _no_ ," Roxas shook his head. "I mean… I was just stopping by. To admire."

Namine was still smiling, but out of genuine kindness or pity, Roxas wasn't quite sure. "I didn't know that you're an admirer of art, either."

"Sure, yeah, I'm a big fan," he lied.

Unfortunately for Roxas, Namine found his declaration interesting enough to peel her attention away from her drawing. She looked up with those doe-like eyes and the most adorable grin that the boy had ever seen. "Really? Do you have a favorite artist?"

Roxas froze. He hadn't thought that far in advance. In fact, he hadn't thought at all. The words seemed to be spilling from his mouth before he could even process what he was saying, and now it was much too late to backtrack. Namine was waiting expectantly for an answer, eyes still twinkling with the excitement of a common interest.

"I, uh, can't choose," he muttered. "There are just so many… good ones."

A brief pause lingered between them as Roxas' response sat lamely in the air. Namine's delicate eyebrows furrowed above her crystal eyes a bit skeptically and Roxas mentally chided himself for his lack of a more creative reply. Still, the girl nodded politely and returned her attention back to her work.

"So…" Roxas mused as he began wandering the room aimlessly, apparently under the false belief that constant motion would help him to gather his bearings. He meandered toward a wall of paintings. "Are any of these yours?"

Namine peeked over her shoulder. "A few. The one on the right is about a week old."

His eyes found the painting in question and, undoubtedly, it was stunning. The canvas was covered in a watercolor depiction of a tall lighthouse standing proudly in the midst of the shimmering ocean. Roxas perked up with recognition.

"Hey, is this —"

"Destiny's Light. Yes, it is."

The lighthouse, fondly named Destiny's Light by the natives, was a famous landmark off the coast of the Island. The old legend told the tale of a group of fishermen who had gotten lost at sea without any means of survival. Just as they were about to give up hope, they noticed a lone lighthouse in the dark and dismal distance. They were guided to the Island, which had yet to be discovered, and the fishermen believed that the light had lead them to their destiny. Roxas knew the story well, as it was one that his father used to tell whenever they went fishing off the Island.

" _If you're ever lost, Rox, just look for your light. It'll take you to where you need to be."_

Roxas studied the way the blues melted into the greens, the reds into the yellows of the sunset. "It's incredible."

"Oh," Namine squeaked. "Well, thank you."

The boy suddenly found himself loitering beside her, mere inches from her sweet-smelling hair, but he willed himself not to panic. Instead, he distracted himself by moving his gaze toward the half-painted canvas on the table.

"What's this one —" he pointed a finger at her latest creation, but, apparently, his nerves were affecting his depth perception because his hand bumped into a nearby pencil holder, knocking the contents to the floor. "Shit, I'm sorry!"

Namine and Roxas both dropped to the floor at the same time, collecting the scattered pencils and tiny paint brushes that had fallen. "It's okay, really," she insisted kindly, but Roxas was still flustered as he reached for the last drawing utensil.

"I'm not normally such a spaz, I swear, I'm just —"

"Distracted by the art?"

His fumbling hands came to a halt as his gaze lifted to discover that Namine was watching him with a gentle, yet knowing grin.

"Yeah," he swallowed thickly around a lump in his throat. "You could say that."

With a soft chuckle, she gathered up the remaining pencils and stood to her feet. Roxas followed suit, but with far less grace. "I'm glad you stopped by, Roxas," she said.

"Me, too," he croaked, his heart leaping inside his chest at the way his name sounded coming from her pink lips.

Namine returned to her seat and began working as if she'd never been interrupted. Roxas turned on his heel and took one step toward the door before whipping around again.

"Do you wanna get coffee?"

The question was so abrupt and unexpected that Roxas didn't even recognize his own voice. Namine glanced up, looking just as startled as he did, and tucked a loose strand of golden hair behind her ear.

"Maybe? If you want?" He added quickly.

Much to his surprise, Namine began giggling. And it was the single most delightful noise he'd ever heard. "That would be nice," she answered. "Are you free after school?"

"Yeah, of course!" He nodded like an enthusiastic bobble-head. "I'll meet you on the front steps?"

Namine smiled. "I'll be waiting."

 _She'll be waiting_. Roxas couldn't remember much of their conversation after that, but he found himself floating out of the classroom and back into the bustling hallway. And for the first time in forever, he wore a grin as he hurried off to Calculus.

* * *

Sora was scowling shamelessly. He wasn't normally a scowler — in fact, it was a rare moment, indeed, when the boy was caught without some kind of a smile on his face — but Kairi had just broken the news to Riku about their plans to attend the debutante ball together and his best friend's initial reaction had been to nearly spew coffee out of his nose from laughter.

It was certainly a legitimate reason to scowl.

"Okay, okay, are you done?" Sora grumbled. "It's not _that_ funny. It's not like I've never been to a party before."

Riku had finally found the strength to swallow his mouthful of americano without any of it leaving his body. The final vestiges of laughter fell past his lips, but he still wore a wide grin as he looked over at Sora. "This isn't a party. It's a _ball_. Meaning, you have to wear a tux and use more than one kind of fork at dinner. And do you even know how to dance?"

Sora opened his mouth to protest.

"The macarena doesn't count," Kairi was quick to include.

His mouth closed defeatedly.

"Honestly, I don't even care about all that," Kairi went on, hands wrapped around her warm cup of coffee. "The whole point is to prove to my parents that I'm not going to play by their silly rules anymore," she turned to Riku and beamed with delight. "You should've seen my mom's face when I told her that Sora is my date. You would've thought I'd just set fire to her designer wardrobe!"

The three friends broke into a round of hearty laughter. They sat inside Island Java, a popular after-school hangout for the students of Destiny High. With their constantly conflicting schedules, sometimes a quick cup of coffee was all the time they could spare outside of class. It wasn't a trip to the beach, but it was better than nothing.

The tiny bell above the door chimed sweetly to signal someone else's entrance into the coffee shop. It caught the attention of a few pairs of curious eyes that glanced toward the front of the shop, but then promptly returned to their previous conversations. Riku, however, allowed his gaze to linger a little bit longer than most while Kairi and Sora continued to chat excitedly about their upcoming event.

A boy with stylishly unkempt blond hair had just walked in with Namine — rather, Riku _thought_ it was Namine. He wasn't used to seeing her in broad daylight instead of shrouded in darkness on their rooftops. She smiled appreciatively as the blond boy opened the door for her. Then he muttered something that must've been charmingly witty because Namine began giggling as they stepped up to the counter. The boy flushed pink.

"… I think we lost him," Sora's voice managed to recapture Riku's attention. The silver-haired athlete blinked his eyes before taking in his friends' wary expressions.

"What's up? You're not usually so spacey," Kairi commented with a pensive sip of her latte.

"It's nothing," Riku assured them hurriedly. When they appeared unconvinced, he gave a subtle head nod toward the front of the shop and lowered his voice. "I think I know that girl over there."

Sora and Kairi both peeked over their coffee cups to sneak a look. "The blonde one?" Kairi wondered quietly. "I know her, too. We're in the same art class. She's _crazy_ talented."

"She lives next door to me," Riku added. "I didn't even know her name until the other night."

Sora smirked brightly. "But I'll bet she already knew _yours_ —"

"Track superstar Riku Gaines!" He and Kairi chirped in their best fangirl impressions, followed by their whooping laughter.

Even Riku cracked a smile at his own expense. "You're both full of it."

Another soft ringing noise filled the air, but it wasn't coming from the front door. Riku perked up and pulled his phone out of his pocket to find a text message from his father, sighing before he even had the chance to read it. The boy slowly stood from the table and reached for his bag. "Gotta go. Dad's up."

"You need a hand with dinner tonight?" Sora offered, but his expression turned sour when a vivid memory came to mind. "I know that I _technically_ almost scorched your curtains with the toaster last time, but I could —"

"Don't worry about it," said Riku. As much as he appreciated his friends' help when it came to daily upkeep around the Gaines household, he didn't feel much like having company. "I think I'll just order out tonight."

Kairi waved. "Then I guess we'll just see you tomorrow."

They watched as their friend shouldered his bag and made his way to the door. But they failed to notice the way his subtle eyes shifted back to Namine and Roxas as he passed by. The young blonde could practically feel his piercing gaze, but when she looked up, there was nobody there.

* * *

Axel leaned back against the brick wall surrounding the front courtyard outside Destiny High. He held his lighter out in front of him, absentmindedly sliding his thumb over the spark wheel to ignite the tiny flame, watching it dance and flicker in place. He repeated the gesture a few more times before Saix walked up to join him.

"Pyro," the blue-haired senior accused, offering his pack of cigarettes.

Axel smirked and took one. "Problem?"

"Of course not," Saix replied. He, too, leaned back against the wall as they lit their cigarettes in silence. The redhead watched his glow for a moment before taking a much-needed drag.

Classes had been dismissed for quite some time, but a few of the older and more experienced students knew that it was best to wait rather than get caught up in the parking lot traffic. The cars had dwindled down to only a few, but Axel wasn't in any rush. He'd much rather loiter around school property and get his daily dose of nicotine before calling it a day.

"Xemnas isn't happy, you know," Saix finally spoke up, staring intensely at the boy beside him.

"Tell me something I don't know," Axel scoffed as he blew a stream of smoke from his nostrils and watched it drift away into the sky. "That guy's always pissed off about _something_. Do you even need to bore me with the details?"

Saix held his cigarette stiffly between two fingers. "It's your new friend, Axel. He doesn't want him creating any problems for us."

"Gimme a break!" Axel pushed himself off the wall, stepping forward with arms crossed and his cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. "So, what, we're not allowed to talk to anyone else now? Why doesn't he just start regulating what we eat, too? Or how about our oxygen intake? I'm sure that'd make him happy —"

"Axel," Saix warned.

The redhead glanced over his shoulder to glower dangerously at the fellow Organization member. "You might not mind having your leash pulled so tight, but I'm not just gonna sit on my ass this time. Got it memorized?"

"Fine," Saix dropped his cigarette to the ground and stepped it out. "You can inform Xemnas of this yourself."

Axel huffed loudly and took a moment to stare out over the vacant parking lot. As hot-headed as he might be, he knew better than to seek out a confrontation with Xemnas. He put out his own cigarette and shrugged coolly. "Besides, it's just one teensy friendship. What kinda harm could it do, huh?"

Saix sighed. "I'll never understand your strange fixation on sad, pathetic types."

"What can I say? I'm just such a bleeding heart," said Axel, clutching a dramatic hand to the center of his chest.

"No, you're just an idiot," Saix rolled his eyes as he started making his way toward his car, which was now stranded alone in the empty lot. He paused to look over his shoulder. "Are you coming with me?"

"Yeah, I'll meet you at your place," Axel called out, hauling his bag over his shoulder and starting toward his own car. "There's no way I'm going home tonight."

.

to be continued

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* * *

A/N: Oh, Hayner. You're the _real_ star of this story. :P


	4. Chapter 4

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Chapter four

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" _Tell me about your mother, Namine."_

 _Everything was white. The walls were white, the lights were white, even the gentle-looking woman with the clipboard was wearing a white doctor's coat. Six-year-old Namine felt temporarily blinded by all the whiteness._

" _I love my mommy," the tiny girl answered, scribbling away in her sketchbook with crayons that had been provided by the nice doctors. "She teaches me how to draw pretty things."_

 _The woman deftly jotted something down on the clipboard and then smiled. "Do you like to draw?"_

 _Namine nodded vehemently, her loose locks of golden hair flopping against her porcelain face. "It's my favorite."_

" _What kind of things do you like to draw?" The woman moved from her chair and knelt beside Namine on the floor to hover over her latest sketch. The picture was simple and childlike, but far more refined than what most first graders would produce. On the page, a sketch of what appeared to be Namine and her mother were holding hands, smiling, outside of her house. The doctor tilted her head. "Where's your father?"_

 _The little blonde ignored the question and continued scribbling out a few clouds above the roof._

" _Namine," the woman tried again, still gentle. "Tell me about your father."_

 _Her voice was small and distant when she finally spoke down into her sketchbook. "Daddy scares me…"_

" _Namine," the woman pressed with more concern plaguing her tone than in her previous attempts. "Listen to me. Did your father ever try to hurt you?"_

 _Silence._

" _Namine."_

 _Again, silence._

" _Namine…"_

"… Namine?"

The girl was suddenly dragged back to reality when she heard her name called. She blinked her faraway eyes and glanced around the rooftop, catching Riku's concerned stare from where he sat outside his window across the way. Namine looked down at the sketchpad resting in her lap. The current page was blank, but her hand still held her pencil poised above the paper.

"You okay? You seem distracted," said Riku.

It had somehow become an unspoken routine for the pair to meet on their rooftop hideout when the sun went down. Sometimes they would chat cordially beneath the stars, but other times not at all. Namine would always bring her sketchpad and Riku was content to lay back and listen as she worked. They both enjoyed the comfortable silence, but, even more so, they enjoyed each other's company.

"Oh, sorry…" Namine mumbled, giving her empty page a confused stare. She couldn't quite remember when she had zoned out, but it must've been sooner than she thought if she hadn't even begun a sketch. "I guess I just got lost in my thoughts."

"About?" He asked.

Namine didn't have an answer. Instead, she set her sketchpad aside and stated simply, "I have something for you."

Riku sat up attentively. "Something for _me_?"

With a small smile gracing her lips, Namine disappeared through her window. Riku hardly had time to wonder before she returned again, this time with a piece of paper rolled up and tucked under her arm. The blonde carefully crept to the edge of her roof — which almost made contact with Riku's — and held out the paper. Riku, still bewildered, met her at the edge and accepted the gift. He kept a cautious eye on Namine as he unrolled the paper.

The canvas in his hands was suddenly filled with a rich burst of color — dark, earthy tones that were blended and shaded to perfection. It didn't take Riku long to realize that the masterpiece in front of him was his own house, the exact view that Namine had from her rooftop. Every line, curve, and shadow was uncanny to the original. The inky black sky on the paper was the same one that drifted above them every night.

"I finished the sketch of your house," Namine explained when she noticed Riku's eyes lingering a bit too long on the paper. "You asked to see it when I was done."

Riku could recall that request from their first conversation. Though, truthfully, he hadn't expected such a stunning result. "Yeah, but I never thought you'd let me _keep_ it," he said. "I can't accept this —"

Namine shook her head. "Don't be silly. I want you to have it."

He wanted to protest. Something as spectacular as her drawing should be hanging in a museum, not Riku's bedroom wall. The boy finally looked up from the paper while he said, "You really have a gift, Namine."

She grinned shyly. "Well, I've been drawing ever since I was a child."

"No, I mean," Riku paused, forming his words carefully. "More than just the artwork. It's _you_. You can see the beauty in everything — even my old, run-down house."

"We see what we want to see," Namine replied softly.

The corner of Riku's mouth twitched upward as he began rolling up the paper once more. "Thanks, Namine. It's really great."

"Thank _you_ , Riku," she insisted. "It's nice to have someone to talk to."

"Anytime."

* * *

Axel was leaning back in his chair, idly scrolling through his phone, when Roxas came practically skipping through the door of their creative writing class. The redhead side-eyed him strangely while he settled into the seat beside him and turned to face Axel with a chipper, "Morning!"

"Who's the clever bastard who snuck crack into your cereal this morning?" Axel quirked a suspicious brow.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you're giving Mr. Rogers a run for his money," the older boy smirked. "Don't get me wrong — it warms my little heart to see you so high on life, but — what's that all about?"

There was a dreamy gleam in Roxas' eyes as he leaned toward Axel. "Well, there's this girl —"

"Ah," Axel interjected with a well-intentioned eye roll. "There usually is."

" —and we went out for coffee yesterday. I dunno if it was actually a _date_ or not. I mean, I paid, but friends pay for coffee sometimes, too, so… Oh, god, I hope I wasn't giving her the wrong message…"

Axel chuckled as he put a reassuring hand on Roxas' shoulder. "As touching and amusing as your inner turmoil is, you gotta stop freaking out. A catch like you? Your mystery girl is probably just as loopy as you are."

Roxas snorted skeptically. "I'm a _catch_?"

"Yeah, y'know, in a One Direction kind of way."

They both started snickering, which was a stark contrast to the rest of the class' utter apathy. Roxas swatted his friend's hand off his shoulder before rifling through his bag. "So did you finish the poetry assignment?"

Axel slid a fresh sheet of paper across his desktop and rested his hands proudly behind his head. "Read it and weep, my friend. Edgar Allen Poe can kiss my poetic ass."

Roxas picked up the paper and scanned over the neatly scribed poem:

" _As bright as the setting sun_

 _Rising over the horizon._

 _A gleam, a flicker,_

 _Of eternal red…"_

The blond glanced over at Axel, who had returned to fiddling absentmindedly with his phone. "Axel," Roxas said to catch his friend's attention. "This is really _good_."

Axel peered up and noticed the earnestness that was so evident on the other boy's features. With a playful huff, he snatched the paper back. "No need to sound so shocked, buddy."

"You know what I mean," Roxas countered defensively. "I just never realized you took this class so seriously."

The senior shrugged. "You're not the only one who signed up out of interest, y'know."

Roxas couldn't hold back a grin. Finally he'd found someone who shares his appreciation for the written word. "So you wanna be a writer someday?"

"Maybe."

"Well, is that what you wanna study after you graduate?"

"If I was actually planning on going to college, then it's something I might consider," Axel waved a hand dismissively, but Roxas continued to stare with wide eyes.

"You don't wanna go to college?" The younger boy wondered intently. "At all?"

"Did I stutter?" Axel scoffed, less playful than before. "But if you're so eager to change my mind, then maybe you've got an extra thirty grand lying around to lend me for tuition."

Roxas' tone lowered in volume, but not in conviction as he reminded his friend, "They give out scholarships. You're smart, Axel, you could get a full ride if you actually decided to apply."

"Hey, cut the guidance counselor crap, alright?" The redhead allowed his defiant scowl to lift into a grin as he nudged Roxas with his elbow. "I was just starting to like you."

And with that, the mood was lightened. Roxas broke into a smile of his own and nudged Axel right back. "Oh, thanks!"

They were so wrapped up in their amusement that they failed to notice Mr. Liebowitz shuffling into the room with his usual underwhelming presence. The slightly disheveled man shot the boys an ineffective glare before taking his post behind the desk where he began droning on to the rest of the unenthused class.

"Come back to the lunch table today," Axel requested. "It's like a damn graveyard over there with those mood killers I call pals."

Roxas nodded. "Yeah, I think I can stop by."

"Stop by?" The redhead mocked. "That's all I get now? Gee, this new lady friend of yours must really have your balls in a vise grip already —"

"Shut up!" Roxas groaned as he flushed as vibrantly as Axel's hair. He swung a hand at the boy next to him, which only seemed to fuel Axel's amusement even more.

A monotone grumble could be heard from the front of the room. "Mr. Eberhardt, Mr. Thorne. Do you two need to be separated?"

Although Mr. Leibowitz's threat failed to muster up any sort of intimidation, Roxas still snapped his attention forward. Axel, however, put on his most smug grin.

"Nope," the older boy chirped. "Carry on, grandpa, we'll try to behave ourselves."

Roxas slinked down in his chair, trying to appear as invisible as possible while Axel carried out his antics. Mr. Leibowitz scrunched up his wrinkled face. "Well, maybe an afternoon in detention will help you out with that."

"As the unofficial poster child for Destiny High's detention center, I'm actually offended that you think I haven't already been written up today."

"Then how about I save your other teachers some time and write you up for tomorrow instead?"

"If it makes you happy, gramps, go right ahead. Not like I have any other plans."

As Mr. Leibowitz turned around to rummage through his desk for a detention slip, Roxas gave Axel a look and whispered a vicious, "What the hell are you _doing_?"

"It's called having a little fun," Axel murmured under his breath. "You should try it sometime."

The blond rolled his eyes. "Right. Thanks, but no thanks —"

In one swift motion, Axel grabbed his poetry assignment, crumpled it up into a tight ball, and then chucked it toward the front of the room. Roxas gawked when the paper bounced off the top of Mr. Leibowitz's lowered head.

"Roxas!" Axel gasped with so much exaggeration that the other boy could've laughed if he weren't already so mortified. "I appreciate you trying to defend my honor, but there's no need to _attack_ a poor man of _his_ age!"

"What?" Roxas demanded. "But I didn't —"

"Mr. Eberhardt," their disgruntled teacher announced as he reached for a second detention slip. "You can join your partner in crime tomorrow afternoon."

Axel was still keeping up his righteous charade as he piped up, " _Thank_ you, sir. Justice is served!"

"Are you serious?" Roxas' forehead met his desktop with a muted thud. "I didn't even _do_ anything."

"That's exactly my point, amigo," the older boy reached over to rustle Roxas' messy mop of blond hair. "Life's too short to go through it unnoticed. Got it memorized?"

He lifted his head just enough to send a narrowed, unamused glare in his friend's direction.

Axel just winked.

* * *

The McCarthy household wasn't situated atop a grassy hill like Kairi's mansion, but, to Sora, it was home. The quaint cottage in the lower district of the Island was barely big enough to comfortably hold Sora and his parents — and his yellow lab, Pluto. But what they lacked in space, the McCarthy family made up for in warm hospitality and unflinching optimism.

Though — in Sora, Kairi, and Riku's opinion — the most redeeming detail about the cottage was the basement, which had been expertly designed to host some of the most amazing sleepovers.

The final moments of _The Breakfast Club_ played softly in the background while Sora dug his hand into the popcorn bowl. Kairi sat beside him amongst their giant nest of pillows and blankets with a collection of small seashells spread out before her. She held a single piece of cotton string between her fingers and carefully selected only the best shells to slide onto the thread.

"If I were in The Breakfast Club, I'd want to be Judd Nelson," Sora decided as he flopped back onto a pile of blankets. "You could be Molly Ringwald and Riku could be Emilio Estevez, since he's the jock."

Kairi made a face. "Really? I always pegged Riku as the broody bad guy."

"I can be a bad guy, too, you know," he argued with a slight pout that did nothing to prove his point.

The girl took one look at her friend in his red heart boxers, white tube socks, and oversized Green Day t-shirt. She giggled, "Sora McCarthy, you don't have a single bad bone in your body."

"Wanna bet?" He asked, his grin stretching from ear to ear.

" _No_ ," Kairi pulled her attention away from her craft long enough to toss a popcorn kernel at his head. "Haven't you learned your lesson yet? A bet is basically how I wrangled you into this whole ball thing, remember?"

Even as he lay atop a sea of soft bedding, Sora could feel nearly every muscle in his body tense up. In a few short days, he'd be accompanying Kairi to Destiny Island's biggest social event of the season, and the reality of it all felt like a million pound weight nosediving into the pit of his stomach. Sora, who could swim miles out into the ocean and scale palm trees with ease, was shaken by a debutante ball.

"Of course I remember," he mumbled. "It's all I've been thinking about for days."

Kairi nudged his leg with her foot. "Hey, parties are supposed to be fun."

"Yeah, but it's just like Riku said — this isn't a _normal_ party," Sora quickly scrambled up to a cross-legged position, turning to Kairi with an expression that she rarely saw plaguing the boy's face — an expression of uncertainty. "What if I use the wrong fork when I eat or step on your billion dollar shoes when we're dancing? You're really gonna regret inviting me when I make _both_ of us look like losers."

"Since when do we care about being losers?" Kairi demanded as she, too, turned to face her friend so that they sat knee to knee. "Sora, these kids aren't the kind of people you want to waste time trying to impress, trust me. All they have is a lot of money — their _parents_ ' money. I don't want you to be anyone but yourself when we go to this ball."

Some of the sparkle was slowly beginning to make its way back into Sora's eyes, but before he could say anything in response, Kairi reached for her string of seashells and tied the two ends of the thread together. Then she grabbed Sora's hand and slipped the newly formed bracelet onto his wrist.

"It's a good luck charm," she explained. "I made one for Riku, too. It'll help you find the courage to get through this party and whatever else scares you, mister tough guy. And it'll remind you that out of all the other dates my mom would've lined up for me, I'd still choose _you_."

Their hands were still touching. Sora couldn't seem to stop staring at the way their fingers tangled together and when he finally looked up, he noticed that their faces were mere inches apart. Kairi's eyes were twinkling a deep blue color even in the dim light of the basement and _god, her hands were still crazy soft._

The next thing they both knew, Sora leaned forward to close the remaining gap lingering between their lips.

He didn't know how long they stayed like that. Five seconds? A minute? Time ceased to exist.

But he _did_ know that Kairi's lips were just as soft as her hands.

Time resumed again when she started gently pushing against Sora's shoulders to separate their mouths. The girl's stare was wide and unblinking, her cheeks painted with a rosy hue. "Sora…"

"I…" the elation bubbling in the boy's chest quickly turned to dread as he caught sight of Kairi's expression. "I'm sorry, Kairi, I don't — I don't know why I just did that, I just…"

Her lips formed a tight, straight line across her face, seemingly at a loss for words.

"… I'm just an idiot, I know I am," Sora prattled on desperately. "Kairi?"

"I think we should just go to sleep," she finally replied, her voice soft and distant. Sora's stomach flipped with unease as he watched Kairi slowly retreat to her side of the pillow nest. She laid down to face the opposite wall, curling into herself defensively.

Her back rose and fell with every uneven breath. It was silent, save for the movie credits that still scrolled across the TV screen. "Kairi?" He tried again.

There was no reply. Whether it was because she had already fallen asleep or because she was ignoring him, Sora didn't know.

Instead of battling with his thoughts, he scooted over to his side — making sure to give Kairi plenty of space — and laid himself down for what was bound to be a very restless sleep.

.

to be continued

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* * *

A/N: Is that the vague beginnings of an actual plot I see? GASP! Seriously, guys, I promise things will pick up soon. Stay tuned!


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: A big 'ol THANK YOU to everyone who's been reading/reviewing the fic so far! I'm glad that people seem to be excited about the revamp. :) I probably won't be getting much writing done for the next week because my parents are coming to town for a visit, so I wanted to get this next chapter up before I get busy with all my family shenanigans. Enjoy, everyone!

* * *

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Chapter five

.

It was almost seven 'o clock when Roxas heard the doorbell from where he sat on the living room couch. He pulled his attention away from a particularly gripping re-run of CSI: Miami long enough to lock eyes with his mother, who perked up from behind the kitchen counter with a bowl of mashed potatoes in hand.

Tonight was the night. More specifically, tonight was the night that Roxas had been dreading since the beginning of the week. Despite his best attempts to get out of another dismal 'family dinner' with Mr. Dental Hygienist, his mother was adamant that he put his best foot forward and join them. Roxas could think of a million other things he'd rather be doing — strangling himself with a piece of dental floss being among them — but he had some peace of mind knowing that the evening wouldn't be a complete waste. After all, he was somewhat curious to see what kind of creep his mother was inviting over this time around.

"I'll get it," Roxas jumped to his feet, but was halted by his mother.

"No, no, I will," she insisted frantically. "Do me a favor and start setting the table, will you, kiddo?"

His mother set the bowl of food down and stepped out from behind the counter, smoothing out the bottom of her mini skirt. Roxas' face contorted into discontent. Holly Eberhardt had only been seventeen years old when she had Roxas — one of the many reasons why her marriage with his father had failed, he liked to believe — so her affinity toward skin-tight apparel wasn't entirely surprising. Still, she was his mother and no matter how young she was, Roxas couldn't stand the sight of her dressing like some eager-to-impress teenager.

He sighed in reply and started making his way into the kitchen as the doorbell rang for a second time. Holly gave her blonde hair a final fluff and then hurried to the front door. Roxas set out three plates at the dinner table, consciously avoiding the seat that his father used to occupy when he still lived at home. All he could hear were the muffled voices from the foyer.

"Come in, come in!"

"Holly, you're looking positively _delicious_ tonight…"

Roxas heard the telltale smack of lip against lip, followed by his mother's giggle.

"Oh, stop that! Here, the kitchen's this way."

Roxas tried not to gag on the spot. He hadn't even seen this man yet, but he could already surmise that he was a tool. As soon as they stepped into the kitchen, his suspicions were confirmed.

His mother was clinging to the arm of a man who stood at roughly six feet tall. His dirty blond hair was trimmed short around his face — which appeared to be permanently frozen into a smirk — and a pair of black RayBan sunglasses were perched on the top of his head. He wore a crisp button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, tucked into fitted jeans.

"This is Seifer — _Dr. Almasy_ ," Holly introduced like a smitten pre-teen. "And this is my son, Roxas."

The man took a confident step forward and reached out a hand. "So we finally meet, huh, kid?"

Roxas barely blinked. He stood motionlessly on the other side of the table and stared distastefully at Seifer's offered hand.

Holly began to laugh, clearly an attempt to fill the tense silence that followed. "Roxas, honey, remember to mind your manners."

"Welcome to our home, _doctor_ ," he muttered through tight lips as he finished up the last place setting at the table.

Seifer cleared his throat and retracted his hand stiffly. "Just, uh — call me Seifer, kid."

Roxas walked past the couple to make a beeline for the kitchen when his mother clapped her hands together resolutely. "Alright, then! Sweetheart, you take a seat at the table while I give Roxas a hand with the food."

She trailed closely behind her son until they were safely out of earshot. Then she grabbed Roxas' wrist, pulled him to a halt, and whispered venomously at his unamused expression, "Listen up, young man. I don't know what on earth you're trying to do here, but you better start behaving yourself —"

"Mom, he's wearing a pair of _sunglasses_ on his head to dinner," he pointed out exasperatedly.

The remark went unacknowledged. "I really like this guy, so, for once, I need you to think about _my_ happiness."

Roxas wanted to scream with laughter. He wanted to tell his mom that every single decision made in their household was for _her_ happiness. He wanted to tell her that her selfishness often got in the way of her parenting and that, ever since the divorce, she'd been the most careless mother he's ever known.

But he remained silent.

"And it wouldn't kill you to make a little pleasant conversation tonight," Holly added with a stern look as she grabbed the salad bowl off the counter and disappeared into the dining room.

The blond boy could hear his mother cheerfully greet her boyfriend as she entered the room. He inhaled and exhaled slowly, glancing down to notice that his knuckles had turned a bit white from gripping the edge of the countertop. Tonight was already proving to be more difficult than he originally thought. Defeatedly, Roxas carried the remaining plates of food out to the table where he found his mother sitting beside Seifer, serving him a helping of tossed salad and giggling like a fool.

Roxas dropped the plates onto the table a bit too roughly and then plopped himself down into the chair across from Seifer.

"So, kid, your mom tells me that you're in high school," the doctor began as Holly started scooping mashed potatoes onto his plate.

"Um, yeah."

"How's that goin' for you? You a sports man like I was?" He turned his proud smirk onto Roxas' mother and winked. "Traverse High football. Varsity fullback, 1999."

Roxas tried not to gag. Holly, however, grinned appreciatively and began filling her own plate with food. "I've tried to convince him to go out for some teams, but he just doesn't —"

"I wanna be a writer," the boy spoke up pointedly, glancing up from his plate where he'd been pushing a forkful of salad around aimlessly. "I'm interested in writing."

"Writing?" Seifer appeared to stifle a chuckle through a mouthful of over-cooked chicken, as if he'd never heard the word before. Roxas wouldn't be surprised if that were true. "What do you plan on doing with a degree in _that_?"

Roxas could feel his patience wearing thinner and thinner by the second. He wanted nothing more than to throw his fork across the table at that pompous smirk, but, instead, he answered curtly, "Write things."

"Write things, he says!" Seifer howled with laughter, nudging Holly with his elbow, and then pointed his fork directly at Roxas. "The kid's still young. He's got some time to figure things out."

"He's just so stubborn, no matter how much I try to encourage him," Holly chimed in.

"I'm right here. I can still hear you —"

"So tell me, kid," Seifer interrupted with a lifted brow. "You got a girlfriend?"

The question caught him off-guard. It came, seemingly, out of nowhere, but the blond could tell that the man's cocky disposition meant that he was attempting to prove some kind of point. After a moment or two of fumbling over his words, he responded, "Uh, no."

"Well, maybe you would if you played sports and spoke up a little more, huh?" Seifer, again, turned to Holly with riotous laughter and — much to Roxas' outrage — his mother actually joined in.

And just like that, Roxas could feel his remaining composure snap in half like a small twig. The blond boy dropped his fork, letting it clamor loudly against his plate, and shot a dangerous look at his mother. "Are you _seriously_ not gonna do anything about this?"

Holly's laughter stopped instantly, but Seifer continued chortling to himself while the woman met her son's intense glare. "Roxas," she warned.

"No," he said firmly. "I don't care about how much you like this guy, mom. I'm not just gonna sit here while he talks to me like —"

Seifer's gaze was suddenly steely. "Hey, now, listen here, kid —"

" _Roxas_!" He roared, surprising everyone at the table — including himself — by jumping to his feet and slamming his palms onto the tabletop. "My name is _Roxas_ , not _kid_. And, no, I don't play football or have a girlfriend and I don't give a _shit_ what you think about it."

Holly stood next. "Roxas, that's enough!"

"Oh, so _now_ you're gonna act like the responsible adult around here?" He continued, averting his rabid tangent toward his mother. "You don't have to pretend anymore, mom, I know you don't care. You don't care about anything but yourself and that's _exactly_ why dad left us!"

He hardly heard any of the uproar that occurred after that. Roxas could feel his legs taking him away — fast. He ran through the kitchen, the hallway, and out the door in a blur. The salty outside air whipped against his skin as he grabbed his skateboard off the front porch and glided down the street. His muscles burned with exertion, but that was the least of his troubles.

Maybe he'd skate to Hayner's and ask to sleep on the couch in his basement. He never seemed to mind, anyway.

* * *

"… Hold up."

"You heard me."

"You seriously…?"

"I _know_."

"You _kissed_ her?"

Sora groaned remorsefully and let his head fall back against the row of lockers with a heavy thud. He had expected this kind of reaction from Riku after telling him what happened with Kairi, but that didn't make it any easier. The three of them had always been the best of friends — kissing just seemed like crossing some kind of line. Even though it had felt so strangely right at the time.

"I _know_ ," the brunet repeated. "I did that thing I always do where I don't think things through before I just do them."

Riku nodded as he removed his chemistry textbook from his locker and stuffed it into his bag. Knowing Sora for a majority of his life had given him extensive knowledge about the boy's particular brand of impulsiveness. "And then what happened?"

"She looked really confused… Upset, maybe? And then we just went to sleep without talking about it," Sora explained, feeling his stomach drop at the mere memory of that evening. "The next morning was _so_ awkward. We barely even looked at each other when she was getting ready to leave. And that's another thing — she just _left_. She didn't even stay for breakfast or anything. We _always_ make pancakes together, Riku!"

Sora was verging on hysterical as he grabbed onto Riku's arm. The silver-haired boy gave his friend a pointed look and shut his locker door. "You're going to drive yourself even more insane than you already are. You know that, right?"

Riku started down the hallway, Sora falling into step beside him. "Why are you being so weirdly calm about all this? What if I ruined everything?"

"And what if you didn't?" Riku challenged. The sly grin spreading across his face made Sora squirm. "If I'm being completely honest, I always thought there was something going on between you two."

"What…?" Sora's eyes bulged in shock and his face flushed a vibrant shade of red. "And you thought that _now_ would be a good time to bring that up?"

Riku shrugged. "Well, why not? It's as good a time as any."

They continued to walk and Sora suddenly fell silent, but Riku could practically hear the gears turning around inside his friend's head. As they approached their classroom, Sora finally spoke up in an uncharacteristically soft tone, "So you don't… you don't mind if…?"

The taller boy came to a stop outside the doorway and placed an earnest hand on Sora's shoulder. "You're both my best friends. I don't mind as long as you're both happy."

The brunet's troubled expression quickly lifted into a bright, grateful smile. He lunged forward and wrapped his arms around Riku's waist in a vise grip. "Thanks, Riku, you're the best."

Riku, even after years of experiencing Sora's tendency for affectionate physical contact, was still taken aback by the hug. He patted the boy on the back and chuckled good-naturedly. "Don't mention it."

The pair broke apart just as a familiar blur of auburn hair rounded the corner. Riku waved as Kairi speeded past them in the hall, but Sora appeared to be momentarily shellshocked. Kairi smiled in return, and her posture immediately tensed once she locked eyes with the brunet.

"Hey, Kairi!" Sora called out a bit too eagerly. The girl resembled a startled animal as she quickly shuffled past her friends and disappeared down the hall.

Sora released another miserable groan, but Riku was quick to retaliate with a dose of reassuring words, "C'mon, it's freaking me out to see you so stressed. Everything's going to be fine."

"How do you know?" Sora wondered pitifully.

"Because you have _me_ on your team," replied Riku with a confident smirk, extending his fist toward Sora. "Right?"

Sora took a moment to examine Riku's gesture of camaraderie, but then, in his usual resilient nature, perked up with a determined grin of his own.

"Right," he agreed heartily, meeting Riku's hand in an enthusiastic fist bump.

* * *

Axel slid a venti-sized coffee cup toward Roxas when the blond boy took a seat at the Organization's lunch table, allowing his forehead to drop down against the cold surface.

"If your Friday night really sucked as much as you say it did, then I thought you might need a little something," the redhead explained with dramatic sympathy.

Roxas said nothing, but blindly reached out a hand to grab the cup of coffee.

"So," Axel began. "Not one of your better family dinners, eh?"

"I told my mom what a miserable parent I think she is, screamed at her prick of a boyfriend, stormed out of the house, and didn't come back until Sunday morning. So, yeah, it sucked balls."

"Man, what I would've paid to be a fly on the wall for _that_ ," Axel mused. Roxas lifted his head to throw a sharp glare in his friend's direction. "Oh, right. Sorry. Supportive friend. Yay, Roxas!"

The blond sighed as he brought the cup to his lips, but wound up nearly choking on the liquid as it burned its way down his throat. "Is there alcohol in this?"

Axel scrunched his nose noncommittally. "A teeny, tiny bit of whiskey to take the edge off."

Roxas stared uneasily at the drink. He had a hunch that there was much more than a teeny, tiny bit. With a shrug, he took another sip. "You know," he said, bringing the cup to eye level and examining it aimlessly. "Sometimes I wish I could just run away. For good."

The older boy leaned his chin into his palm with intrigue. "Oh, yeah? And where exactly would you run off to?"

He hadn't given it much serious thought, but, somehow, the answer came to him immediately. "Maybe to Twilight Town so I could live with my dad."

"Remind me again why you haven't already ditched the crazy lady to live with this amazing dad of yours," Axel smirked.

"He's just really busy. I'm sure that's it," Roxas explained. "Sometimes I'll call or send him an email, but he doesn't always have time to reply."

Axel considered his friend's words. He didn't have much experience with good fathers himself, but he figured that they should at least make time to contact their sons. Still, Roxas seemed to be adamantly holding onto his remaining shreds of hope — the hope that one day his father _would_ call him back. Whether Axel found it admirable or foolish, he wasn't quite sure.

"Well, that makes two of us with incognito dads," the senior remarked with a nonchalant wave of his hand. "Mine was hauled away ten years ago after an illegal drug bust. Haven't seen or heard from him since."

The offhandedness of Axel's confession made Roxas' jaw drop open. "But I thought you said you didn't have a family."

"Hey, I wasn't lying," Axel secured his gaze on his friend's bewildered face. "Sure, I've got parents, but a _family_ isn't supposed to let you down. Got it memorized?"

Roxas nodded slowly, wordlessly.

"So whenever you plan on making your grand escape to Twilight Town," he jabbed his thumb into his chest with a grin. "Count me in."

The blond smiled back. He knew that his runaway was nothing but a reckless pipe dream, but it gave him a bit more strength knowing that he had a loyal friend on his side.

"You bet."

* * *

"You're painting again," Namine pointed out as she stood in the doorway of her studio.

It wasn't a studio, exactly. It was the unused guest bedroom that she'd unofficially turned into a makeshift art room, complete with standing easels, utensils, and a large desk for sketching. Namine tended to be the only person who ever stepped foot inside the room, but that afternoon she entered to find her mother sitting before a half-painted canvas, brush in hand.

"I hope you don't mind that I'm using your supplies," her mother said kindly.

Namine had inherited many traits from her mother, Evangeline. Both ladies were long and slender with ocean-colored eyes and wispy blonde hair. And although the physical attributes were nothing to complain about, it was her mother's artistic skill that Namine strived to mimic the most. In her younger years, Evangeline was a commissioned artist who sold her paintings to various venues around the Island and even a few in the downtown museums. After her daughter was born, however, her artistic endeavors became purely recreational. Namine hadn't seen her mother with a paint brush in hand for years, despite having such fond childhood memories of twirling around her backyard while Evangeline painted the scene with a smile. It was a memory that would remain happy forever, immortalized in one of her mother's masterpieces.

"I don't mind," Namine insisted as she pulled up a stool beside her mother to watch. The woman's hand still moved with perfect precision and poise after all the years. "I just wasn't expecting to ever find you in here again."

"Oh, don't exaggerate," Evangeline said, never faltering in her careful brush strokes. "It's only been about…"

Namine smiled patiently. "Ten years, mom."

Her mother shook her head fondly. "You remember everything, _mon petit bijou_."

"I'm just very astute," said the young girl.

"Well, that makes two of us," Evangeline glanced to the side at her daughter. "I did happen to notice that boy who walked you home the other day."

Namine immediately began to squirm, her blonde locks falling around her face to hide her blushing cheeks. " _Mother_."

The woman's silvery laughter filled the room. "He was very cute. Is he someone special?"

"His name is Roxas," Namine admitted softly. "And he's a… special friend."

Evangeline peeled her gentle eyes away from her canvas, grinning knowingly. "I'm very happy to hear that you're making some good friends. Your father and I were hoping that you would."

"But Dad isn't here," Namine was quick to remind her.

"He will be soon," her mother's fluid hand finally came to a halt in front of the canvas. "He comes home in a week, Nami."

Namine just wrung her fingers together as she murmured a quiet, "I know."

"The doctors have all said that he's made great improvement," Evangeline continued. "We should both be very proud of him."

"I am," Namine nodded slowly, though her voice was small and distant.

Like a soft breeze, Evangeline stood from her seat and leaned over to cup Namine's cheek in her pale hand. She looked her daughter in the eye — blue meeting blue — and promised firmly, "Nothing is going to hurt my beautiful girl. I'll make sure of it."

Nerves were still tugging relentlessly inside Namine's mind, but if there was anyone in the world to trust, it was her mother. She managed to lift the corners of her mouth as Evangeline retracted her hand and exited the room. Namine shifted to get a better look at the nearly completed canvas resting on the easel. It was the view from their window, colored and blended into a seamless hue. The clouds floated against the sea of blue expanse and dark specks depicted birds on their journey through the endless sky.

It was another moment that would remain perfect, forever captured on the canvas.

.

to be continued

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	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I kinda took an unexpected hiatus there, but now I'm baaaaack! That's the good news. The bad news is that I can't exactly promise how speedy my next few updates will be. Unfortunately, adult-ing takes priority over writing and I've got a couple things going on right now that might keep me from you lovely people for a little while. Just please bear with me and I'll greatly appreciate it! :)

* * *

.

Chapter six

.

Riku had promised Sora that the Kairi situation would soon be resolved. He was still a little uncertain as to how, exactly, but Sora didn't usually have an issue with putting blind trust in people — especially when that person happened to be his best friend. He firmly believed that Riku must've been concocting some sort of master plan that he was waiting to reveal in the grandest of fashions.

So Sora waited. And waited. And waited.

But then the inevitable impatience started trickling in. The first day of silent treatment from Kairi was slightly torturous, but bearable. Sora and Riku sat at their lunch table alone, lamenting about the trials and tribulations that accompanied a friendship with a teenaged girl. Sora walked home after school by himself when Riku had track practice, careful to avoid their usual trek past the beach. Kairi had even convinced her friend Selphie to trade seats with her in History class so that she didn't have to endure sitting beside Sora for fifty excruciatingly awkward minutes.

It was only the second day when Sora's emotional stability really started to unravel. On that Tuesday evening, he called Riku in a panic.

"I know they say it's only a myth," Sora began in a voice that sounded more than a little choked up. "But do you think that anyone's _actually_ ever died from heartbreak?"

Riku, who wasn't used to dishing out so much friendly comfort, tried not to sigh directly into the receiver. "The only thing that's breaking is your sanity."

"It's been three days and twenty-one hours since it happened —" On the other end, Riku snorted. "C'mon, Riku, she hasn't said _anything_ to you about this?"

The silver-haired boy balanced his cell between his shoulder and ear as he finished up washing the dishes that had piled up in the sink. "Not a word. And when I try to bring it up, all I get is some lame excuse about how she needs to suddenly meet for a student council meeting or hurry home to feed her cat."

"Kairi doesn't even have a cat," said Sora after a brief pause.

This time, Riku did sigh into the receiver. "So not the time, Sora…"

"Hey, I have an idea!" Sora exclaimed with a sudden bout of inspiration. Riku mentally braced himself for what was about to be said because his friend's ideas very often lacked tact and strategy. "What if I wrote her a letter? Girls love it when we use all those fancy words to tell them how sorry we are, right?"

Riku quirked a skeptical brow and, although Sora couldn't see, it was more than evident in his tone. "And then are you going to send it by carrier pigeon?"

"I'm being serious, Riku!" Sora huffed.

"So am I," the other boy countered. "I know it sucks to admit it, but this is one conversation that you gotta have face to face."

Sora flopped backwards onto his bed and grumbled up at the ceiling, "Yeah, well, you're kinda forgetting that she hates my face right now. She won't even come within a hundred mile radius of me."

Riku put down the soapy dish in his hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, sensing a migraine coming on. This had to be worse than the time clumsy seven-year-old Sora accidentally tripped over Kairi's elaborate sandcastle and Riku had to hold a vicious peer-mediation session until the girl agreed to stop chucking seashells at the poor boy's head. This was _much_ worse and it called for desperate measures.

"Well," Riku began as casually as possible. "How about you come over tomorrow night? I can take you up on that offer to help me with dinner while we brainstorm some plans. Deal?"

Sora rolled over onto his stomach, mumbling impatiently. He'd gone through this much Kairi-less torture already, so what was the harm in one more day?

"Okay, deal."

* * *

For as long as Roxas could remember, he'd only ever belonged to one lunch table — Hayner, Pence, and Olette's — which suited him just fine. After all, Roxas wasn't the most sociable of butterflies at Destiny High.

Which is why he found it very strange when he began dividing his attention among three different lunch locations.

There would always be his three best friends, who were all very supportive of Roxas' new relationships. Even Hayner, much to the blond's surprise — despite the fact that his encouragement only stemmed from his excitement to turn the semester into some kind of pseudo spy mission. And then there was the Organization. Roxas was proud to admit that he'd almost completely memorized everyone's name, even if the only person who ever really spoke to him at the table was Axel.

Lastly, but certainly not least, there was Namine. Roxas' infatuation and hormone-ridden mind told him that he enjoyed those lunches the most. The blonde girl spent her lunch period in the vacant art classroom, which wasn't a typical hangout for Roxas, but he was happy to join her on the days when he wasn't already committed to his other friends.

They'd chat over their lunches and, in Namine's case, her latest art assignment. Sometimes Roxas would humor her and create his own art project, which usually only consisted of colored pencil stick figures on old construction paper from the scrap bin. His attempts always seemed to make Namine smile so, in his opinion, it was well worth the effort.

"Oh, my _god_ ," Roxas complained, dropping his colored pencil to give his dominant hand a good shake. "Is it normal to get so many hand cramps?"

Namine giggled over her canvas, "You get used to it after a while. It just takes time."

"Well, I think I'll leave the art projects to you, then," he held up his scrap paper to reveal his creation, which looked no different than the result of a hyperactive toddler with crayons. "I don't think I have the gift."

"But your stick figures show a lot of promise," she told him before they both started laughing.

Roxas leaned back in his chair and unceremoniously pushed his art supplies away. He already had his fair share of embarrassment for one lunch period. Glancing over at Namine's canvas, he watched as the blank background started gaining color with every masterful stroke of the girl's brush.

"I don't get how yours end up looking so amazing," he mused. "It just looks like random brush strokes to me."

"There's actually a method to this madness," Namine grinned. Her eyes flickered away from her work — such a simple gesture that Roxas knew meant more than it would to the average person — and seemed to beckon him toward her. "Would you like to see?"

For a brief moment, he just blinked mindlessly as if she could've possibly been speaking to someone else in the room. Seeing as they were the only two occupants, however, the blond responded with a tentative step forward. "Do you have any experience dealing with hopeless cases?"

Namine shook her head of golden tresses and said, "No, but I happen to be an excellent teacher so just come over here, silly."

The corner of Roxas' lip twitched upward as he closed the rest of the distance between them. He stood over Namine's shoulder, staring down at her artwork that was far more intimidating than a canvas ought to be. The small girl offered Roxas her paintbrush and he accepted it with a clumsy grip as her own hand wrapped around his. He could feel his heartbeat inside his ears, but still allowed Namine to lead his limp hand around the painting. He wasn't actually doing anything — all of the credit and skill belonged to Namine — but Roxas still felt honored that she would willingly share a moment of such intimacy.

"See?" Namine said as she continued to move Roxas' hand over the canvas. "The strokes are very gentle and go from dark to light."

But the boy was more focused on his close proximity to Namine than her exquisite painting technique. Her rose-scented hair was right under his nose and her soft hand was carefully holding his own. He could even feel her back rising and falling against his chest as she breathed.

"I — yeah. I guess that kinda makes sense," he muttered. It didn't.

"It's more noticeable in some of the earlier expressionism pieces," Namine went on. "We should go visit one of the art museums downtown so I can show you."

Roxas nodded quickly, distractedly. "Oh, yeah. Sounds great."

He could still remember when he was very young, and his parents would take him to see the various museums in the heart of the city. It was an ideal day trip for his mother and father, seeing as it was an activity they could do together that didn't require much interaction. Young Roxas, however, didn't find it quite as ideal. He would nap in his stroller or yank impatiently on his father's pant leg until it was time to go home.

"… don't you think, Roxas?"

The blond boy blinked his faraway eyes as he snapped back to reality. Namine's words had ended expectantly, as if waiting for a response, but Roxas hadn't actually heard what the young girl had been asking him.

"Uh, I'm sorry?" He floundered.

"I asked if you have any objections to getting paint on your nose."

Roxas wrinkled his brow. "Paint on my nose? Why would I get —"

Before another word could be spoken, Namine spun and took the paintbrush with her, quickly dabbing it against the tip of Roxas' nose. The boy barely had time to flinch, but when he realized that a spot of bright red was now covering the center of his face, a grin stretched across his mouth.

"Oh, you're gonna be sorry," he dipped his finger in the paint tray and swiped it across Namine's porcelain cheek in retaliation. The small girl squealed and tried to twist away, but to no avail.

As they waged a playful paint war — giggling and teasing and touching — Roxas decided that he kinda-maybe-almost didn't hate art, after all.

* * *

Riku honestly didn't think it was possible, but when he went to open the front door, he found Sora on the other side with his hair even more of a brunet mess than it normally was. His friend was donning sweatpants and an over-sized hoodie on backwards, which was an interesting change from his usual ensemble of t-shirts, cargo shorts, and worn-in sneakers. He was also wearing a deep frown and that, Riku thought, was the most interesting part of all.

"Your hoodie is on backwards," Riku said in lieu of a greeting.

Sora looked downward as if he weren't aware of his fashion faux pas until right that moment. Then he sighed and let his shoulders droop when he glanced back up at Riku. "I guess that explains why my neck was so itchy on the way over here."

Although he'd never admit it, Riku felt a twinge of sympathy for his pitiful friend. That's why he couldn't even pretend to be annoyed when he stepped aside and invited him through the doorway. "Just get inside, idiot."

Sora shuffled into the house and spun around in time to see Riku shutting the front door. "So about this master plan," the brunet began. "I was thinking that maybe we could —"

"Not now," Riku interrupted calmly. He put a hand on Sora's shoulder and led him down the hall to the kitchen. "Dinner first, then we'll talk strategy."

"But —"

"Go into the pantry and get some pasta from the shelf, alright?" The silver-haired boy ushered Sora to the pantry door, which was already slightly ajar. Sora cast a curious glance at his friend, perplexed by his sudden haste, but still did as he was told, slowly opening the pantry door.

"Hey, Riku, is bow tie pasta okay…?"

Sora nearly choked on his own gasp when he opened the door to reveal Kairi. The girl was facing him, box of pasta in hand, and staring as if she'd just experienced an otherworldly encounter.

"K-Kairi?" Sora stuttered incredulously.

She looked as if she were attempting to hide behind the small box of pasta. "Sora, what are you doing here?!"

He fumbled over a few nonsensical syllables before managing, "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Riku invited me over to help with dinner —"

"But he invited _me_ over, too —"

A charging force pushed into Sora's back and catapulted him into the pantry. He cried out, stumbling forward until he knocked into Kairi, sandwiching the girl between his body and the back shelf.

"Riku!" Kairi growled threateningly, but she was too late. The pantry door closed with a resounding slam, trapping them together in the darkness. "Open the door _now_!"

They both heard the telltale click of the lock. "Not until you two talk it out and fix this," Riku's muffled voice explained from the other side of the door.

"So _this_ was your big master plan?" Sora demanded, stepping back from Kairi and feeling around blindly in the darkness. "Keeping us captive until we worked it out?"

"I didn't have a choice," came Riku's definitive reply. "Look, you two are the ones who decided to go to this stupid ball together. And it's going to be even _more_ stupid if you aren't speaking to each other. I'm sick of being in the middle of this mess and I'm sick of having two best friends who won't even reply to our group chat anymore. So start talking."

There was silence. Kairi turned her head, her eyes adjusting to the darkness well enough so that she could settle her skeptical gaze on Sora.

"Your hoodie is on backwards," she commented after a while.

"Yeah, I know."

If they hadn't been in the midst of an awkward spell, Kairi would've affectionately called him a loser and then Sora would've done something ridiculous like pull his hood over his face until they were both bursting with laughter.

Kairi missed that. Sora missed it, too.

"Hey, Kai," Sora piped up softly, quickly giving in. "I'm really sorry."

To his surprise, it didn't take Kairi long to respond with a sincere, "No, _I'm_ sorry."

"Why are you apologizing? I'm the idiot who… _kissed_ you," and he spoke the word as if it were the gravest of sins.

"Yeah, but _I'm_ the idiot who overreacted," the auburn haired girl slowly sunk down to take a seat in the corner of the pantry, pulling her knees into her chest. "You just took me by surprise, that's all. I didn't know what to do or what to say — and then I just got too embarrassed to do anything because I thought that maybe you hadn't actually meant to do it."

"I did mean it," Sora answered a little too quickly, making Kairi crack a smile. "I mean, uh… if that's okay with you."

She watched Sora take a seat beside her on the floor. It was easier to see his eyes up close, even with only a small strip of light coming in from under the door, and they were beaming at her with poorly concealed anticipation. "It's definitely okay," said Kairi.

"So," Sora began. "Does this mean that everything's good again?"

"I think this means that everything is _perfect_ ," Kairi's hand crawled around until it found Sora's and held it. "And for the record, not talking to you really sucks. A lot."

Sora laughed boisterously because he knew all too well how much he needed Kairi in his life. The past few days had certainly taught him that much. "Yeah, and apparently it makes me forget how to wear clothes, too."

Kairi snorted and tugged playfully on the hood of Sora's hoodie that was still hanging around the front of his neck. There was a silent beat between them where they both just focused on each other's faces — the way their smiles pulled relentlessly on their lips and lit up their eyes.

"Just kiss her already," they heard Riku mutter dryly from outside the door.

The pair inside the pantry were suddenly aware of how close they'd scooted together without even realizing it. They sat hip to hip, hand to hand, their faces mere inches apart. As they both blushed and chuckled in spite of themselves, Sora lifted a hand to gently tangle through Kairi's hair, bringing their lips together for a proper kiss.

They hardly even noticed when Riku unlocked the pantry door about five minutes later.

* * *

Namine tried to ignore the fact that a strange car had been following her down the road ever since she left campus to begin her walk home. She kept her head down and didn't dare look back, but the rumbling of the engine still sputtered along from a few feet behind. She contemplated darting down a random alleyway or — under far more severe circumstances — dialing the cops on her cell. However, before she could reach a conclusion, the car sped up beside her and cranked its window down.

"Yo, Goldilocks."

A rush of adrenaline soared through Namine's veins. The voice was unfamiliar and — even worse — slightly menacing. The small girl quickened her footsteps, but the car kept up.

"Aw, don't be that way," the driver said. "I'm just trying to get to know you."

"I have pepper spray," Namine spoke up firmly, still averting her gaze.

The driver seemed to find this statement entertaining. "Well, I'm very happy to hear about your safety precautions, but I don't have any lollipops to lure you in with, so you're shit out of luck."

The blonde girl finally stopped and swirled around to face her antagonist. The driver — and his fiery red mane — was leaning an elbow on the window ledge, steering one-handed as he idled beside Namine. He wore a pair of old-school headphones around his neck and had a lit cigarette hanging out the side of his smirking mouth. The car he drove was more rust than actual car and the entire frame shook even with the radio turned down low. Namine wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"And you are?" She prompted.

"Axel," answered the redhead. "Got it memorized?"

Namine didn't budge. "And what do you want, Axel?"

The older boy smacked a hand to his heart as if he were wounded. "You really know how to make a guy feel special, Namine. Jeez, Roxas told me a lot about you, but he failed to mention the 'tude."

"Roxas?" Namine perked up. "You know Roxas?"

"Blondie, kinda short, the human reincarnation of a Blink-182 song," Axel winked. "That's the one."

Namine surveyed this boy again. She vaguely recognized him as one of those seniors who wore black and only associated with themselves. She wondered what he had to do with Roxas — if he was actually telling the truth, that is. She also wondered why Roxas had never mentioned him before.

"All out of questions, huh?" Axel removed the cigarette from his mouth after a final drag and shoved it into one of his cup holders, which apparently functioned as an ashtray. "Listen — as a good pal of Roxas, I'm taking an interest in his life. Which now includes you, Goldilocks. So, need a ride? Yes or no."

"I can walk, thank you," Namine started down the sidewalk again. Axel revved the engine and slowly crept alongside her.

"Something tells me we got off on the wrong foot here," the redhead tried again. "Roxas aside, I'm just a guy with wheels asking from the goodness of my heart whether or not the lady would like a lift. I do curbside service, y'know."

Namine bit down on her bottom lip in contemplation. Her initial reaction might've been to turn away, but if this boy actually was a friend of Roxas, then he must possess some redeeming qualities. The tiny blonde said nothing — just held her head high and found her way into the passenger seat of Axel's car.

"'Atta girl," he praised, reaching over to turn up the radio a bit. "Where to?"

"Atlantica Avenue," Namine replied distractedly. She was much too busy examining the inside of Axel's car with disdain. Everything smelled like smoke and she counted at least three empty bags of chips just on the first glance.

They sped off down the street, Axel's rusty car groaning in protest every time he pressed the accelerator. "So tell me, Namine," Axel raised an eyebrow with mock intimidation. "What exactly are your intentions with dear Roxas?"

"He's a good friend," Namine explained, vaguely regretting her decision to get in the car as she watched the speedometer fall much past the speed limit.

Axel clicked his tongue softly. "Already brutally friend-zoning him? Give a guy a chance, will ya? I can vouch for his good character."

Namine idly thought that praise of good character coming from the likes of Axel didn't exactly mean much. "I know that he's a great person, but that's honestly all we are right now — just friends."

"Shame," the senior murmured as he took a sharp turn. "'Cause the kid's got it bad for you."

The blonde girl blushed and looked down at her hands neatly folded in her lap. "Really?"

Axel smirked. "I wouldn't lie — scout's honor."

The rest of the trip was silent — except for Axel quietly singing along with the radio — much to Namine's relief. Her mind was now swimming with the prospect of the redhead's words being true. Did Roxas actually like her? More importantly, did she like Roxas?

"Like I said, curbside service," Axel rolled up slowly in front of Namine's house.

The girl shouldered her bag. "Thank you, Axel."

"I accept tips in the form of sexual favors."

Namine froze, turned, and stared at him.

"Kidding. Joke. Not actually a thing," Axel shook his head. "Jeez, the sense of humor needs a little work, Goldilocks. Got it memorized?"

"Goodbye, Axel," Namine got out of the car and shut the door before hurrying up her driveway.

She flinched when she heard him suddenly turn up the radio to full volume and take off down the street with his rusty tires screeching.

.

to be continued

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* * *

A/N: As you can probably tell, the theme of this chapter is 'OH AXEL'.

Again, thanks for your patience, everyone. I'll do my best to get back on track soon!


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